


Without Being Told

by Boffin1710, Dassandre



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cart Ghost, Casserole-Scenting Bints, Coffee, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gardens & Gardening, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Muteness, Post-SPECTRE, Psychological Trauma, Recipes, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Tea, cat!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 110
Words: 160,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/pseuds/Boffin1710, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dassandre/pseuds/Dassandre
Summary: The disaster made of Westminster Bridge and dismantling the remnants of Nine Eyes were only the beginning of the mess that needed to be cleaned up after James Bond walked away from everything hand-in-hand with Madeleine Swann.Sooner or later, something was going to break.  No one expected it to be The Quartermaster.
Relationships: James Bond & Alec Trevelyan, James Bond & Q, James Bond/Q, Q/Alec Trevelyan
Comments: 1650
Kudos: 1196





	1. Here's Where it Starts ...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsheTarasovich (natalieashe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/gifts).



> This is for Ashe. The best of Alphas. Something special just for him. 
> 
> Please note that we have chosen not to use Archive Warnings. This will be an intense story in places. Some tags will be added as we go, but they will be minimal. Fair Warning. :)
> 
> Banner courtesy of ChestnutNOLA

* * *

Here's where it starts ... 

With the dismantling of the tentacles of Nine Eyes, the shadows appeared. Just out of his line of sight. But they were there. Lurking. Taunting. Silent.    
  
And then came the restructuring of all three agencies: MI6, MI5, and GCHQ. None had been left unaffected by the debacle.    
  
The shadows followed him. Circled around as he worked. Trying to distract. To find a way in.    
  
Shadows no one else saw.    
  
Slowly, he was slipping away. Losing himself.   
  
Even with all that was being asked of him in taking Spectre apart piece by piece, the day to day operation of MI6 still flowed. He gave up keeping track of how many hours MI6 owed him in compensation for the never-ending, no-going-home pace he kept.    
  
And as the darkness of days continued, and the skies all turned to grey, the shadows found their way in and became voices.    
  
Voices that couldn’t be tuned out.

How'd they get so goddamn loud?   
  
They lingered and lurked, the shades, watching over his shoulder as he tried to talk 004 through dismantling an explosive device. She was in a major financial institution in the Los Palos Grandes district of Caracas near the embassies of the United Nations, Uruguay, Ecuador, and the Dominican Republic.

The destruction would be catastrophic if the bomb went off.   
  
“I can’t get in, 004. Something’s blocking me at every turn. It’s in your hands.”   
  
“Not enough time Q! I won’t be able to dismantle it! Timer is showing two minutes.”   
  
“Then you need to run! And run NOW! I’ll set off the fire alarms in the building and hope that it gives at least some of them time to escape.” On the video feed, he watched as 004 threw open the office door and ran. Ran for the nearest staircase as the fire alarms began to shriek throughout the structure.    
  
And all Q could do was watch. Watch and hope at least some of the employees in the building would make their way to safety. If not...   
  
The flames soared.    
  
Walls collapsed.    
  
Shadows crowded.   
  
And the voices... 

How'd they get so goddamn loud?   
  
Here’s where it ends...   
  
And he wondered... Can't anybody hear me? Can't anybody see me?

He had definitely lost his way. Consumed by it all. The shadows pushed in until they were a tangible pressure against him. Voices screaming in his ear.    
  
Will anybody watch me? Is someone gonna stop me? This could be my last mistake. His hand drifted to the Walther holstered underneath the top of his workstation.    
  
Put the gun down, just put the gun down...    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Alec Meets The Quartermaster

“Come now. It’s not as bad as all that.”

“No. It’s a damn sight worse!” Alec Trevelyan spun around and jabbed two fingers into the centre of Tanner’s chest with such force that the Chief of Staff was pretty sure he’d find bruises there later. “Fuck Mallory and his reorganisation plan. Putting me out to pasture is what he’s doing. Just didn’t have the bollocks to call it what it is. He’s already replaced Bond with Nomi, and I’m the senior-most Double-O now that James is gone. Why  _ wouldn’t _ I be next? Fuck Blofeld and Nine Eyes, too, for that matter. If not for all  _ that _ shite none of this would be happening.”

“You make it sound like you have nothing to contribute, and that’s not the case. No, you’re not going to be in the field anymore, but think of the things you can do with the trainees, Alec,” Tanner argued. “Your experience. Your knowledge has  _ incalculable _ value, and --”

“And I learned it the hard way! On my own! Like we all did!” His wild gestures nearly took out a passing tech coming out of Q-Branch where Alec was scheduled to turn in his kit now that the debrief from Hell was over. “I got bloody. Nearly got killed a few times before I figured my shite out. Why should they be deprived of the same experience? You don’t learn to be a field agent in a  _ classroom _ , and I’m not going to be the one to set them up for the unrealistic expectation they can. Get 009 to do it.”

“It’ll have to be straight PPO work then.”

“Fuck that, too! I’m a Double-O, Bill,  _ not _ a babysitter.” The mere thought of endless hours working personal protection for sodding politicians who didn’t have a bloody clue what real personal risk was made his skin itch. He spun around, and the doors to Q-Branch slid open at his approach, Tanner followed on his heels. 

“I’d rather shoot myself,” Alec growled as he crossed the threshold into the Branch and came to a studdering halt at the sight before him.

“Put the gun down! Just put the gun down, Q,” R begged.

All eyes in Q-Branch watched the scene play out in front of them in horror. A petite, blue-haired girl stood five feet away from a slender dark-haired young man surrounded by a vast array of monitors and tech.    
  
Tanner froze.   
  
“Just put the gun  _ down _ , Q,” she repeated. The man looked at her wild-eyed as if not comprehending a word she was saying, gun wavering much too close to his right temple.    
  
Trevelyan immediately assessed the situation and realised this must be none other than the Quartermaster he’d been so longing to meet having a bat shite crazy episode. Stepping forward, he deliberately put himself between the blue-haired girl and the gun-toting Quartermaster.    
  
“Quartermaster! 006 returning my kit.” Trevelyan shoved R back towards Tanner and stepped forward purposely toward Q. 

Bill spoke quickly and quietly in R’s ear, blocking her body from Q’s view so she could call Medical.

“I’ve my weapon, two earwigs, a tablet, and my Six-issued mobile ready to hand over, Q,” Alec said. He approached cautiously, and his eyes took in every twitch, every dart the Quartermaster’s made, but he placed the tablet on the edge of Q’s workstation, making it look for all the world that this was as standard a check-in as they came. “Last three are a bit dinged up, I’m afraid, but I  _ have _ been out a rather long time, and I’m definitely looking forward to the dinner you promised me last time we spoke.”

Q, however, was clearly caught in his own world. He wasn’t frantic. He didn’t wave the gun wildly about. And that, for Trevelyan, made it all much worse. It made Q unpredictable. This was  _ not _ the man Alec had got to know so well these last months. He took two more steps toward him.

“It’s been what? Eight? No, ten missions you’ve run for me since I got out of deep cover. You know I’ve been quite keen on finally meeting the voice in my ear.” Alec’s tone was conversational, amiable even, for he  _ had _ been looking forward to meeting the new Quartermaster. Very much.

But not like this. So not like this. 

Alec struggled with reconciling the quirky, quick-witted, competent smart-arse he’d come to like, respect, and even trust in their conversations on comms with the broken, suicidal man stood before him now. 

Desperation like this didn’t appear overnight. Someone who should have been watching over the Quartermaster, hadn't been, and Alec would know who. 

“My last mistake …” Q’s voice was distant.

“What was Q?” Nearly close enough … but not quite. 

Not quite. 

“No one can … hear me … see me … they’re so goddamn loud …” He banged the flat of the gun on the side of his head as if trying to pound something out of his brain.

“What are loud, Q?”

He pressed the muzzle to his temple again. “So goddamn loud … need to stop!”

Q’s finger slipped from the trigger guard to the trigger itself.

Fuck!

Alec leapt.

The minions gasped. 

Tanner shouted. 

R screamed. 

The Walther skidded across the hard concrete and came to rest at the base of a nearby storage cupboard. 

When Medical’s emergency response team arrived 90 seconds later, they found Q on the ground in front of his workstation wrapped tightly in Trevelyan's arms, sobbing silently into the larger man’s chest as 006 murmured the same words into his ear over and over again.

“I see you, Q. I hear you. I’ve got you. I see you, Q ...”

  
  
  



	3. Q in Medical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments on the first two chapters. We are thrilled that our jumping-off point was so well received.

Within an hour, the rumour network in MI6 was in full swing with everyone speculating on what had gone wrong with the Quartermaster. Of course, the talk went from one extreme to another... “complete breakdown... you know he was too young for the job” onto “taken out of Q Branch as a traitor” and everything in between. All of which seemed to anger Trevelyan immensely. He snarled every time he heard a theory or was questioned as to what had  _ really _ happened. 

Trevelyan was leant against the wall of the corridor outside the series of inpatient rooms listening to Dr. Isa Martel from Medical and Dr. Galen Osler (of infamous reputation) from Psych rambling on about the Quartermaster’s condition. “We won’t have an adequate evaluation until he wakes. It appears he’s had a psychotic break.”

“I can tell you I’ve never seen him in worse physical condition as he is now,” Martel added. 

“Someone should have been paying attention,” Trevelyan growled, not caring who heard him. “ _ Who _ was supposed to be watching to make sure something like this didn’t happen?! 

Mallory refused to acknowledge the smart-mouthed comment, but Tanner glared at him. 

“Know I’m right, Tanner. Kept muttering that no one saw him or heard him. You used the boy up.”

“Time and place, 006.” 

“This  _ is _ the time and place, M!” Trevelyan pushed away from the wall and stalked into the med room where the unconscious, medicated Q was bound to a bed ‘for his own safety’.

“006 you’re not next of kin, you’ve no right to...” Osler began.

“Going to see him. Are  _ you _ going to stop me?! A tad ambitious, don’t you think?” Trevelyan continued inside.

Even whilst unconscious there was an air about Q that screamed ‘boffin’, but otherwise the Quartermaster was nothing like what Alec had expected him to be in the flesh. Though, now, face to face, he wasn’t quite sure what he’d envisioned after so many months talking together on comms. 

Taller than he’d expected, to be sure. But still several centimetres shorter than Alec, himself. Undernourished, if the too prominent ribs he’d felt beneath the garish jumper when he’d held Q in his arms were any indication. Yet there’d been toned muscle, too. Eyes keen and intelligent and desperate in a way that still made the Double-O’s stomach turn at the pain he’d seen there. 

Alec unfurled the loosely curled fingers of Q’s bound hand with one of his own: calluses. He gently rotated the hand in the cuff so it lay flat on the bed. It was peppered with scars of varying size and age. The other would be too, he was sure. Hands-on. Skilled. Competent in more than what he did for his agents on missions.

In some ways, he’d come to know Q’s voice better than his own these last several months. The base, a warm, posh tenor Alec was more than happy to have had in his ear … except when it turned biting or demanding, or -- worse -- disappointed. Though no more than 35 years old, Q had already mastered the disillusioned schoolmarm tone. 

Uncomfortably so. 

Alec had definitely not expected the dark curls. 

Nor the compulsion he felt to run his fingers through them. He quickly pulled his hand away from the top of Q’s head.

The fuck?!

Alec dug his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“So was this your way of putting  _ Q _ out to pasture?” He didn’t take his eyes from the man in the bed.

“On the contrary, 006. It’s my lack of leadership and empathy towards my staff.” M sighed standing at the foot of the bed. “I should have been paying better attention. Listened to what Tanner and Moneypenny were telling me.”

“Shouldn’t have happened.” Alec’s anger grew. To him, there was no excuse for pushing Q beyond his breaking point. 

“The Quartermaster is significant to dismantling the rest of Spectre’s syndicate. Our plans are now significantly hampered by this incident.”

“Your  _ plans _ ?! And what about Q?” Alec spun on M and pointed back at The Quartermaster. “What happens to  _ him _ ?!”

“As Martel and Osler stated, they won’t know his status until he wakes and can be evaluated. Obviously he needs some time off.”

“Some time off?! The man tried to bloody kill himself!”

“An unfortunate incident--”

“‘Lack of leadership and empathy,’ you just said?! You’ve got the right of that. Fuck me! What happens after his ‘time off’? You just going to throw Q to the wolves again?” Alec’s anger seethed just below the surface. “Don’t fool yourself and get too comfortable in your plans, M. There won’t be a single Double-O who isn’t going to be pissed off with the current status of our Quartermaster. Have fun explaining this  _ incident _ to them.”

Alec pushed past M just as Martel and Osler entered the room. “I want to know when he wakes.” Alec demanded of Martel before storming out.


	4. Too Doped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moneypenny entered Q’s room, nodding at Alec as she passed. They had The Quartermaster sitting up in his bed, wrists finally unbound. Eyes were open but stared vacantly at the blanket draped over him. Doctors were hoping that the close friendship between Moneypenny and Q might trigger some response from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, again, for all the comments on this story thus far. We are quite chuffed you are enjoying it.

Four days later, Alec stood outside Q’s room, staring at the younger man through the one-way glass. Q had  _ woken _ two days earlier, if you could call it that. He was conscious but noncommunicative. Nonresponsive in every way. Osler didn’t know just where Q was in his head. It obviously wasn’t with MI6. And at the moment, that was all the shrink could and would say. 

They had started Q on antipsychotic medications and hoped eventually psychotherapy would bring him back. When… was anyone’s guess.

They were clueless. 

“Fucking Psych…” Alec muttered, banging his fist quietly against the window. His own encounters with them over the years had been less than productive and like most of the other Double-O agents, he avoided being in their clutches as much as possible -- except 008. But then Nate Harrell was just odd, to begin with.

Moneypenny entered Q’s room, nodding at Alec as she passed. They had The Quartermaster sitting up in his bed, wrists finally unbound. Eyes were open but stared vacantly at the blanket draped over him. Doctors were hoping that the close friendship between Moneypenny and Q might trigger  _ some _ response from him. 

It didn’t work.

Alec watched for nearly an hour as Eve chatted with the Quartermaster, catching him up on events at Six. First, she briefed him on current operations in the field, then it was an update on his minions and the status of their various R&D projects, and finally, workplace gossip, detailing all the salacious chatter in the building from Erickson’s (E-Branch) new hair plugs to Shah’s (Purchasing) finding reliable child care.

Through it all Q remained unresponsive to Moneypenny’s prattle, questions, and finally, “Please, Q, say  _ something _ to me, love!”

“You really expected  _ that _ to work?” Alec asked when Moneypenny pulled the door to Q’s room shut behind her.

“Bugger off, Trevelyan.” Eve pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes that whilst red-rimmed were not watery. “You don’t even  _ know _ Q.”

Alec scoffed at the sheer ridiculousness at that statement. “Do you?!”

He may not have met Q in the flesh until his breakdown, yet their countless hours spent on comms together had created an intensely personal and surprisingly intimate relationship between 006 and his handler, but Alec’d be damned if he shared any of that with Moneypenny.

“Mission updates, project data,  _ gossip _ ... Moneypenny, Six chewed Q up and spit him out.” He gestured widely at the corridor around him. “Why the fuck would more of  _ that _ be what brings him back?” 

“I don’t know what else to do! He’s my best friend, and he’s catatonic, Alec!”

“Look at the meds they have him on, for Chrissake!” Alec slammed his fist on the window casement. “Did Osler even give Q a chance to come out of it on his own before he started shoving antipsychotics down his throat? Does he even know if Q needs those damn things or is he just buying time because he doesn’t have a fucking clue what to do to heal a mind like Q’s?”

“You’re hardly unbiased here, Alec.” 

“And why is that? Maybe too much experience with ‘Drug the patient first, ask questions later’? It’s straight out of Psych’s bloody playbook. Damn it, Eve, I’ve been in opium dens with addicts less doped up than the Quartermaster is!”

He stormed past her into Q’s room. Alec pulled his chair back into its place at the side of the bed and opened the book he’d been reading aloud to Q the last several days. There were other things he could and probably should be doing outside of this tiny room, but they all felt wrong somehow. 

Q had been there for him through some pretty epic shite the last several months. Sitting here at his side, offering some degree of companionship whilst Q was off wherever he was just now … well, it didn’t even begin to balance the scales.


	5. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec wasn’t an idiot. Angry. Frustrated. Unaccountably worried about the Quartermaster, but not an idiot. He needed Mallory on his side if he had any hope of intervening on Q’s behalf, and getting banned from the building wouldn’t help with that. He relaxed his stance and surprised Mallory by sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the comments on the previous chapter. Keep them coming if you like this one, too. They're extremely helpful in this lockdown. :)

Three more days of nothing from Q and Alec’s full-blown Double-O empathy for someone being held captive by Psych was raging. He couldn’t see any progress at all and was beginning to fear Q just might possibly be lost to them, a prospect he didn’t want to think about given Six’s standard operating procedure on such things. 

He needed to talk to Martel. Martel he trusted. Osler... that bastard needed to just disappear and never come around the Quartermaster again. There had to be other viable options to help Q recover.

Alec was going to find them! 

Alec stopped dead in his tracks just outside of Medical. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, scrubbing across his face. What the fuck was he doing? The Quartermaster’s state had somehow become a mission to him… a very personal one. 

Catching a glimpse of Osler walking down the corridor outside Medical redirected his unexpected thoughts and emotions. “Not going to fuck with Q anymore...” Alec shoved the outer doors to Medical open, banging both against the walls as he strode down the corridor to head off Osler before he pestered the Quartermaster again. 

It did not go well.

“You cannot go about threatening the medical staff!” M raged at Alec half an hour later. The walls to his office shook with his slam of the door. 

“Osler is hardly worth-”

“Don’t! Do not say another word, Trevelyan.” M tossed the file he’d been reviewing prior to security escorting 006 to his office onto the top of his desk and stared down his wayward agent. “Be grateful that Martel intervened on your behalf and kept Galen from having you banned from Medical, but keep it up, and I’ll bar you from the building entirely.”

Alec wasn’t an idiot. Angry. Frustrated. Unaccountably worried about the Quartermaster, but not an idiot. He needed Mallory on his side if he had any hope of intervening on Q’s behalf, and getting banned from the building wouldn’t help with that. He relaxed his stance and surprised Mallory by sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

“Q’s not getting any better, and if he goes to that treatment centre Osler is planning to send him to, Q never will.”

“We don’t know that.”

“If Q is sent off-site, the clock starts ticking. You know the protocol as well as I do, sir. You’ll be the one to order it. Q gets six weeks to show  _ marked _ improvement. If not--”

“He’ll be ‘retired’.” M sighed and sank into his own chair. The true context of that word did not need to be clarified. “This is a bloody nightmare.”

Alec nodded. “And we need to wake Q from it.” Alec leaned forward in his chair and stared Mallory down. “You’re trying to save your projects, but I’m trying to save Q’s life, sir. We don’t have to work at cross purposes.” He was lying through his teeth, though. He had to get Q away from Six to save him, but he needed Mallory on his side in order to do that. 

At least for now.

Mallory rubbed his face and covered his mouth with his hand, considering the options for a moment. There weren’t many. “What do you suggest?” he asked with a vague gesture signifying his openness to ideas.

Alec grinned.

An hour later, Martel, M, and Alec stood in the Quartermaster’s room. “You’re the first physician of record, Dr. Martel. That’s why we are consulting with you and not Dr. Osler,” M began.

“Osler is a sodding idiot,” Alec muttered. 

“006. If you wouldn’t mind, please... I believe 006’s thoughts on the Quartermaster’s recovery and his future locale may have some merit. If you could just...”

“And who is going to supervise his medications, therapy, his physical needs whilst recuperating? This untrained Neanderthal?” Martel protested waving a hand in Trevelyan’s direction. 

“Do a better job than what bloody Psych is doing! I’ve survived without them.”

“Well that’s not saying much is it!” Martel snapped. Alec was one of the worst when it came to obeying the orders of his physicians. “M, you can’t honestly be thinking of letting Trevelyan take the Quartermaster off to God knows where...”

“Honestly, I’m willing to try anything at the moment, Dr. Martel, if I thought it would bring the Quartermaster back to us. We  _ need _ him.”

Alec reached out and gave Q’s hand a squeeze. It was cuffed to the bed frame again. Alec mentally added three more tortures to the list of things he wanted to do to Osler. “Don’t worry Q. I’m going to get you out of this Hell. Even if I have to break you out.”

“Oh, don't even think about it!” Martel barked at him. Then Q’s fingers twitched. He blinked twice, and his focus seemed to briefly shift to their joined hands. His fingers tightened slightly in Alec’s grip. Then he was gone again.

“I think he likes the idea,” Alec smirked.


	6. Safe House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q’s slight hand-squeeze in Medical several weeks ago had set off a chain of events that, looking back on them, spurred a whirlwind of activity. Though, at the time, it all seemed to slide as slowly as cold treacle pouring from a jar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that there will be very few tags added to this story, and we purposefully chose not to use Archive Warnings. Know your triggers. This story deals with complex mental health issues.
> 
> Thank you again for the comments. They are so very appreciated!

Rifle propped against his shoulder, Alec climbed the steps of the cabin and stomped his feet on the porch to clear the heavy snow from his boots. The aged wooden boards groaned and creaked at the abuse. Turning at the railing, he scanned the horizon, green eyes peering carefully into the increasing darkness one last time … well, at least until he began the perimetre check again in another four hours.

Purchased with an alias he’d shared with no one -- not even James -- the cabin was the most atypical, remote, and secure safe house Alec had at his disposal. Situated at the top of a small rise with a lake before it and tall, snow-capped peaks of the Colorado Rocky Mountains behind it, only one road led onto the property, making it easily defensible. A specialised (read: stealth) snowmobile he’d purchased at auction from the Canadian Forces two years ago sat in the barn should a quick and silent exit through the woods be the better part of valour, however.

The location was also the most beautiful, which is why, in part, he’d chosen it. He hoped that the stunning scenery would aid in Q’s recovery. The fact it was highly unlikely anyone would think to look for them Stateside certainly added to the appeal. Alec had long been on record as loathing the States. And he did. 

Except for this place. 

Q’s slight hand-squeeze in Medical several weeks ago had set off a chain of events that, looking back on them, spurred a whirlwind of activity. Though, at the time, it all seemed to slide as slowly as cold treacle pouring from a jar.

“Admittedly, Osler and I differ in our opinions about the Quartermaster’s condition. I believe it would be better if Quartermaster was more ‘present’ in order to travel, but Galen intends to move him in three days.” Dr Martel had said after her examination of the boffin in the minutes after that hopeful squeeze, but like all good agents of the SIS, the  _ subtext  _ of those words, and the ones that followed, told the real story. 

_ Osler’s a prick for moving him. You have three days to get the Quartermaster lucid enough to run off with you.  _

“Thank you, Dr. Martel,” M had said with a solemn nod. “You’ll have all the relevant records made available by then? It would be best if those transporting him had access to the information should it be needed. Beyond that, I don’t imagine there’s much more you can do.”

_ Make sure you have all the medical files ready for Trevelyan, but stay out of it from here. Plausible deniability.  _

“Yes, sir.” Martel turned and looked pointedly at Alec. “It goes against my better judgment, 006, but I’m giving you complete access to the Quartermaster. No restrictions. Do what you can.”

_ I still think it’s a shite idea, but you may be the only one who can save Q. Don’t bollocks it up! _

Alec had spent the bulk of the next days with Q , talking to him, reading to him, telling naughty jokes, engaging him in every way he could imagine, all the while avoiding any conversation that had to do with MI6. And whilst progress was minimal, there  _ was _ progress. Q had started to grip Alec’s hand when asked to do so, began to indicate when he was hungry and thirsty -- they’d been able to remove the feeding tube as a result -- and once or twice Alec thought he saw Q following his movements around the room, but he responded to no one else, not even Moneypenny.

Alec hadn’t been able to spend every minute at Q’s bedside, however. He’d had a mission to prepare for, after all. One that was likely the most covert, long-term, and high-stakes of his career. 

Their journey to Colorado had been long and purposefully convoluted to throw off any hounds Osler might have tried to send after them, but they’d made it, slipping into Alec’s safe house, reasonably isolated on the outskirts of town, so early on Christmas morning that the children of Devil’s Gulch were still nestled all snug in their beds. It was unlikely anyone knew they were even here.

Alec headed back inside the cabin to find Q-- no... he was  _ Ellery  _ here. 

Ellery. One of the few things Alec had been able to garner from the file about the person behind the Quartermaster title, his real name: Ellery McManus. Other than that, the details were few. No family. The date he was coerced into signing his life away to the service. His medical record, including how many times he had been in Medical for dehydration and malnourishment. 

There was nothing more. Not even page upon page of redacted intel. Just... nothing. 

Q was still curled up on the sofa right where Alec had left him an hour ago with feet tucked up underneath him staring at Jacques Pépin Heart & Soul Marathon. Alec ruffled his hair as he passed, and Q leaned into it slightly. 

“So what culinary delight is Jacques making for us tonight, Q?” As usual, there was no response. It was beginning to feel like the norm, sadly enough. Alec stood behind the sofa and watched the television with him for a tad, marveling at Pépin’s knife skills and how he seemed to have no heat receptors in his fingers at all. 

Instead of watching telly with Q, what he should be doing was finally making a call to MI6, reporting in. Moneypenny was his contact. His  _ only _ contact. One of his demands for this mission. No one would know where they were and only one point of contact, Moneypenny and only because he trusted Moneypenny to have  _ Q’s  _ best interest at heart, not the SIS’s.

What caught his attention, however, was the weather warning on his phone: an approaching winter storm would dump another 12-24 inches of snow on the area. It meant they needed to venture into town to replace the supplies they'd brought in with them from Denver. It was a journey they had not attempted yet. Alec glanced at his charge... unsure but knowing it was a must, like it or not. 

“Ellery?” The name formed oddly on his tongue, but Alec needed to get used to it, as apparently did Q who didn’t so much as twitch at the sound of his name. “El?” Alec tried again with a squeeze on the slight shoulder beneath his hand. Yes, the diminutive sat a bit better in his mouth.

Q looked up at him, green eyes wide behind his specs, but even they held no question. They just … were. Alec knew Q was in there, though. He had started to respond to commands the moment Alec had arrived during the night shift to break him out of Medical and, though weak from nearly a fortnight of inactivity, had been able to participate in his own abduction. Q took care of himself: washed, brushed his teeth, and mostly managed to dress. Sometimes. His hair … was a separate issue. Q was not an invalid, he was just … caught in his own head, and Alec wasn’t really sure what to do to help him find his way out.

“Storm’s coming the day after tomorrow,” Alec said, nodding at the large window that looked out across the frozen lake. “A wicked one. Going to need to go into town for some supplies, and I’m not going to leave you here alone. You ready to go shopping? Be out among other people for a tad?”

Q’s stare lasted four seconds without so much as a flicker of a response before he turned and leaned a bit toward the telly where Jacques was now preparing a side dish of sauteed carrots with shallots and chives. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Alec sighed and headed for the open kitchen directly behind the large living space. “And I guess I’ll add carrots to the list.”


	7. At the Shops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ready El?” Inwardly he was seriously questioning whether this was a good idea, but they really didn’t have much choice. They were out of just about everything Alec had purchased at a Denver Walmart before they’d headed into the High Country weeks ago. “Let’s do this.” Taking Q by the elbow, he helped him out of the car and guided him towards the store. “In and out. What’s on the list? We should be well prepared to be snowbound.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who continue to read and comment. It's nice to know so many of you look forward to each new chapter. We look forward to posting them for you. This is one of our favourites.

The next morning after a quick breakfast of toast and the last of their eggs and tea, Alec managed to coax Q into some heavy boots and a warm coat. Getting him to the large black Explorer that was hidden in one of the outbuildings took some effort; cold was clearly not one of Q’s favourite things. And the buckling of the safety belt, well that was just not something that registered with him at all, apparently. 

“This is going to be an adventure.” Alec rolled his eyes as he strapped the younger man in. “We have two stops to make, El... groceries and a hardware store. Need a few things so I can make some repairs around the place. I’m going to put you in charge of the cart and the grocery list when we get there.” Alec babbled as if he was carrying on an important mission strategy briefing, but Q merely stared silently out the passenger window. 

Alec’s cabin was on the outskirts of Devil’s Gulch, Colorado, a relatively small hamlet of 2,157 people, most of whom worked at the resorts 30 miles down the road during both the winter ski season and the summer tourist season. Though not much of a destination itself, a great deal had been done in the last decade to broaden the appeal of the town to the locals themselves: a renovated downtown shopping district centred around a popular town square, the local grocery had expanded encouraging the townsfolk to shop closer to home, and the opening of a McDonald’s two years ago had been met with fanfare to rival the State Opening of Parliament. 

But it was small, quiet, and ultimately people seemed to keep to themselves. Perfect qualities for a safe house location. 

When they arrived at the shops -- something called ‘Safeway’ -- Alec chose a parking space close to the door. Viable for a quick exit, if needed. Exiting the 4x4, he did a quick visual sweep of the area before moving to Q’s side of the car. 

“Ready El?” Inwardly he was seriously questioning whether this was a good idea, but they really didn’t have much choice. They were out of just about everything Alec had purchased at a Denver Walmart before they’d headed into the High Country weeks ago. “Let’s do this.” Taking Q by the elbow, he helped him out of the car and guided him towards the store. “In and out. What’s on the list? We should be well prepared to be snowbound.”

Once inside, Alec pulled a trolley from the row and centred Q behind it, wrapping his fingers around the handle. He placed the list he’d jotted down on scrap paper on the fold-up seat usually used for small children and pointed at the first items on the list: a variety of fruit and veg that were part of the nutrition plan Martel had surreptitiously included with Q’s medical records. 

Alec pointed toward the produce section. “Lead the way,” he said and didn’t bother to hide his grin when Q pushed the cart toward a stand containing avocados, the first fruit on the list. The display also held tomatoes, onions, jalapeño peppers, and limes. “Convenient.” He looked at Q. “How do you feel about guacamole?” Alec didn't really expect a response, and he didn’t get one — Q’s focus seemed to be centred in the general vicinity of the courgettes and aubergines across the way — but Alec felt it important he consulted with Q, nonetheless. 

Guacamole ingredients secured, they made their way through the rest of the produce section smoothly enough. Alec would point to the next item on the list. Q would steer the trolley to it. Alec then would choose the best of what was on offer. 

Rinse. Repeat. What could be simpler? 

It was when they reached the aisle containing the crackers and biscuits that things started to get interesting. 

Alec’s focus was on the crackers and crisps because at some point in “being snowed in” there would be guacamole, crisps, cheese, meats, and crackers. Keeping Q close by had been a concern, but things had gone smoothly enough for their first real venture out in public. The front end of the cart was visible, within reach should Alec need to grab it, but Q had yet to deviate from their pattern of the item on the list, find, retrieve, repeat. 

However, when Alec turned around to drop the items he had selected into the cart, in it sat a package of Oreos, another of chocolate covered graham crackers, and something called Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies. 

Mysterious.

“Oh, is this how we are going to play this game, you little shite?” he said fondly. Q’s hands still gripped the cart, and he stared down at the list in front of him, looking for all the world like he hadn’t moved at all. 

“One. You can have  _ one _ . Choose.” Alec pointed to the pile of sweets now taking up a prominent place in the cart. Q remained silent as if the world was not moving on around him. “Alright then. Oreos it is.” 

“Next item on the list.” Alec shook his head but couldn’t help but smirk at Q, pleased. This...  _ this _ was progress. Others might not think so, but to him it was. Snarky, sassy, witty Q was still inside there somewhere. 

Next stop was the dairy section. Alec had told Q they needed to stock up on cheese and other dairy items and they headed off towards the back of the store. Whilst Alec was sorting through the different kinds of cheese, the cart ghost struck again. This time with half gallons of milk... chocolate and blueberry.

“Seriously El! Seriously?” he groaned, holding the container of vile blue out away from him as if it was contaminated. “ _ Blueberry  _ milk! You are a disgusting toddler.”

Alec eyed the containers. He’d not had chocolate milk in decades and was surprised at how tempting he found it. The blueberry was revolting but …

“Fine. They can both stay, but the chocolate is mine,” he said, pointing an emphatic finger at Q before he placed the blue milk back in the cart and approached another cooler to grab three dozen eggs. Why Americans washed their eggs so they then had to be refrigerated was still beyond him. He turned back to the trolley …

The fuck?!

Another half gallon of chocolate milk had appeared. Alec’s peripheral vision was excellent, but he never saw Q so much as twitch.

“Oh ho! Don’t like to share, either, you stealthy git?!” 

Still, no response and Q’s eyes remained downcast, focused just beyond the end of the cart, but as frustrating as it was trying to figure out how Q was sneaking things without seeming to move, Alec’s earlier pleasure started to take on a different flavour, one of hope. Things could still go disastrously wrong on this outing, but this was the most engaged Q had been since everything fell apart in Q-Branch. He wouldn’t draw Q’s attention to it though, no sense jinxing it, so Alec put the eggs next to the milk and pointed at the list. 

It was time to visit the meat and deli departments.

By the time they reached the till 30 minutes later, the trolley was laden with supplies: those on the list and still more that had mysteriously appeared during their journey through the store.

The flavoured milk and Oreos were joined by Jello snack packs, malted milk balls, a box of something called Lemonheads, a family-sized bag of salt and vinegar crisps and another of Crunchy Cheetos -- cheese dust was going to get  _ everywhere _ \-- a bag of  _ bacon _ jerky -- ‘Seriously, El?!’ -- a jar of hot fudge sauce without the accompanying ice cream, a jar of honey-roasted peanuts, and a large bottle of grape Fanta.

Grape! Disgusting! 

“You’re either secretly a 12-year-old or still stuck in Uni,” Alec said of the sheer amount of junk food that moved past on the conveyor belt along with the healthier options that had been on their list.

Alec asked that Q’s choices be bagged separately. “You wanted them, you carry them,” he said and was unfolding bills from his wallet to pay when the boy at the register pointed at one last item that the ‘cart ghost’ had pulled from the candy display above the belt. 

“That, too, sir?”

Alec’s eyes snapped from the item to Q -- as unchanged as he had been through it all -- and back to the candy bar: Cadbury Royal Dark dark chocolate.

Alec’s favourite.

“How did you--” Then Alec remembered. His third mission with Q in his ear: Odessa. It had been late, his quarry even later. They’d killed time covering a variety of subjects, chocolate among them. Q had found it amazing that with all the different types of chocolate available to him from around the world, Alec would be fond of such a domestic option.

Q had remembered.

An unexpected warmth filled Alec’s chest, cosying up right next to the hope he’d felt earlier. He swallowed hard, coughed once to clear his throat, and indicated that the bar should be added to the total.

Eyes forward, Q took hold of his bags when Alec handed them to him. “Come on, you little shite. Let’s get this stowed in the car and see if we can find somewhere to get a decent cuppa. Don’t even  _ think _ about wandering!”


	8. Raven's Roast Java

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec set the tray down on the counter, looked at the assembled condiments, and was struck with an idea. In all this time, Q had given no indication how he preferred his morning cuppa, so Alec had always given it to him as he liked it, with just a splash of milk. Now might be the opportunity to change that. He loaded up the tray with every sweetener available from sugar cubes to stevia to sugar in the raw, filled small pots with cream, whole, and skimmed milk, and then added a few slices of lemon to the cup’s saucer before returning to the table where he had left Q.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're generally posting on Tuesdays and Fridays, but it's been a rough week already for so many people that perhaps a bonus chapter would be appreciated. If so, please tell us in the comments. You'll still get one on Friday, too. :) In this chapter, you'll be introduced to a key and prominent original character.

Alec parked across the street from a small, quaint-looking place called Raven’s Roast Java. “No pilfering in the coffee shop, El. It’s not the grocery. I’ll get you something chocolatey though since you seem to have a sweets craving.” Q stared out the passenger side window, ignoring Alec completely until he rounded the car to let him out.

Alec took him by the hand, fingers twining together, and crossed through traffic on the snow-packed street. Moderately busy for late morning, the inside of the shop was cozy and warm. The till was enclosed by pastry cases on either side and on the wall behind was painted a huge mural of a raven that held the menu between its curled talons. 

To the right of the mural hung wide, tiered racks with dozens of coffee mugs labeled with customer’s names.  _ A popular place with the locals, _ Alec thought, which meant it must be good. 

Finding an open table in the back of the dining area, he wiggled Q out of his coat and sat him in the far back corner. “You stay. No wandering. Tea or coffee?” To which there was no response. “Beggars can’t be choosers then...”

Alec made his way to the counter, glancing back over his shoulder. Q sat quietly staring at nothing on the wall next to him, but he didn’t want to turn his back on Q too long after the cart ghost incident.

“Welcome to Raven’s Roast. What can I get you?” A woman in her mid-60s appeared behind the counter. Alec gave her a quick assessment. Something about her seemed not quite right for this small-town coffee shop. Much about her bearing reminded him of Martel or even M, the old M.  _ Stop it _ … He inwardly chided himself. This was Devil’s Gulch, Colorado. Not the streets of London where every corner potentially held danger to him. Order coffee and sweets. Eat. Hardware store. Back to the safehouse.

“A large dark roast and a cup of Earl Grey. And two of whatever is the most chocolatey, goopy pastry you have.”

“I can do that.” She pulled a couple of larger sized mugs off a shelf. “Not from around here, are you… picked a bad time of year to sightsee. Weather moving in again soon.”

Alec was waiting with cash in hand to pay, ignoring her comments when she turned back with their cups on a tray. “One dark roast and a cup of steeping Earl Grey with an extra pot of hot water for a refill. I’ll bring out your pastries.” She traded him the order for his payment. 

“Sweeteners, cream, and milk -- everything you’ll need -- right there across the way.” She pointed at a large worktop near the door before reaching into the pastry case for a torte-like thing labeled ‘Death by Chocolate’. “I’ll be out with your sweets in a moment.”

Alec set the tray down on the counter, looked at the assembled condiments, and was struck with an idea. In all this time, Q had given no indication how he preferred his morning cuppa, so Alec had always given it to him as  _ he _ liked it, with just a splash of milk. Now might be the opportunity to change that. He loaded up the tray with every sweetener available from sugar cubes to stevia to sugar in the raw, filled small pots with cream, whole, and skimmed milk, and then added a few slices of lemon to the cup’s saucer before returning to the table where he had left Q.

  
“I brought a little bit of everything.” Alec sat the tray down and unloaded their cups and condiments. Q seemed to be more interested in something he saw on the floor. “Thought you might want to do your own tea since you seem to have a mind of your own about what groceries we buy.” 

“And about that... no wonder you are skin and bones if that is what you call ‘food’! That is going to change.” Alec had just picked up Q’s cuppa when the woman who took their order arrived with their pastries, surprisingly catching Alec off guard. Juggling the mug as he turned suddenly at her voice, the hot tea jostled, sloshing over the rim and catching the back of Q’s hand and a couple of fingers. 

“Bloody hell! Q.... Ellery... I’m... didn’t mean...” Alec grabbed Q’s hand as soon as he realised what had happened. Q’s eyes met Alec’s unblinking, held his gaze for several seconds before glancing away again. No reaction to the burn on his hand, which surely must hurt. 

“Shit! That water just came off the boil.” The barista quickly sat the pastries on the table next to them and pointed toward the serving counter. “There’s a clean basin next to the sink. Fill it with cool water, not cold. Immerse his hand in it. I’ll grab my kit.” She dashed off towards the kitchen in the back. 

By the time Alec returned with the water, the skin on the top of Q’s hand had already turned an angry red and was starting to blister in places. He cupped Q’s hand in his and carefully lowered it into the water. “This’ll sting at first, but then it’ll feel better.” Q responded neither to the words nor the sensation, continuing to stare at the wall next to him.

That Q continued to be so disconnected, even over his injury, only served to make Alec feel worse.

The woman returned a few minutes later. She placed a surprisingly large medical kit on the floor next to the table and pulled out a chair to sit beside Q. “We’re going to let that set for a few minutes and get to know one another in the meantime,” she said to Alec with a nod at the basin.

Alec eyed her critically. Though some of his alarms were going off again, they weren’t the ones that signalled danger. She was … more than she appeared. A barista but not  _ just _ a barista. 

“I’m Grace,” she said, directing her attention first to Q then to Alec. “Grace Mikelson. This is my shop. And you two are?” Grace sat with her hands folded in her lap and when she spoke it was low, calm, and measured. Non-threatening in a way that had even Alec starting to relax. 

“Ruan Kildale,” Alec answered, supplying the alias he used to purchase the cabin five years ago, “but I prefer Alec.”

“I probably would, too.” Grace chuckled and turned toward Q. “And you are Ellery …”

“Ellery Kildale, my husband.” The cover slipped easily from Alec’s lips.

_ You’ll have to be a married couple, Alec _ , Moneypenny had said.  _ No one in their right mind would ever believe the two of you were blood relatives. _

“I should get him home ...” Alec started.

“Why don’t you let me at least bandage that for you, Ellery.” Grace continued talking to him quietly. “I wouldn’t take that outside in this cold without it at least covered,” she commented towards Alec. “Just keep it in the cool water a couple more minutes, Ellery. Draw some of the heat out.”

Alec moved just slightly, eyeing her open kit on the floor beside Q’s chair. “If you’re concerned, Alec,” she had caught him inspecting her kit, “I’ve done this a time or two before. If it makes you comfortable, I have those two huge letters 'MD’ trailing after my name, but I’ve not really used them since leaving the Navy.” 

“Ellery,” Grace said to her patient, “I’m going to have Alec gently pat this dry when we take it out,” which was said to Alec as she handed a soft flannel to him. “Then we’ll put a sterile gauze pad on it and wrap it loosely so it’s protected.”

Q had not said a word nor shown any emotion or indication he was in pain, yet Grace continued to talk with Q as if he was fully present. It intrigued Alec. Few in their journey to Devil’s Gulch, and even some in Six’s Medical, had bothered to show Q the same respect. Alec decided his check-in with Moneypenny would include a request for a thorough background assessment on one Grace Mikelson.

Grace pulled sterile gauze, medical tape, and a few tubes of cream from the kit and unrolled another clean flannel on the tabletop. She pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves and carefully took Q’s hand from the water. Setting the basin on the table behind her, she replaced it with the flannel and indicated Alec should begin his assigned task.

She rolled Q’s hand in hers once Alec was done, inspecting the blisters with a critical eye from behind her spectacles. “Are you allergic to anything, Ellery?” 

Alec mentally skimmed the details of Q’s medical file he had committed to memory. “Penicillin and strawberries.”

Grace’s eyes snapped first to Alec then to Q. “Small world,” she chuckled. “So am I. Both of them. Deathly when it comes to the berries. Keep an EpiPen with me at all times.”

“Bit of a risk, isn’t it? This place?” Alec gestured at the coffee shop.

She looked from the ointment she was applying to the blisters and scanned the room with a smile before returning to her task. “No more than any other I’ve faced. I know how to manage it. What to look out for. My customers, the local ones anyway, understand why they won’t find even artificial strawberries in Raven’s Roast.” 

“El’s allergy isn’t quite so bad. Hives and a rash, mostly,” Alec added, again pulling from memory.

Ointment applied, it was a matter of moments for her to wrap Q’s hand in gauze and secure it with medical tape.

Though Q’s hadn’t missed a moment of her treatment -- his green eyes had tracked every single thing she did -- Alec was nevertheless stunned at what happened next.

“Ellery, look at me, please.”

Q did. He raised his head from his study of his hand and looked Grace in the eyes.

“You’re bearing this pain well, but I know it hurts more than you’re letting on. These kinds of burns do. Alec is going to give you Tylenol for the pain. Take it, young man. If the pain gets worse, you let him know in your own way, and he’ll get you to Dr. Webb at the Medical Center. I mean it. Stoicism is one thing, but I’ve no respect for stupidity or martyrdom. You’re to leave the blisters alone, too. If they rupture on their own, fine, but do  _ not _ pick at them, even if they start to itch. You’ll risk infection and none of us want that.” 

Q said nothing, but he did blink, and she took that to mean he understood what she was telling him.

Grace went on in detail how and when to change the bandage, and by the end of it had summoned her assistant, Sam, who brought over a paper sack used to take away fresh pastries. She filled it instead with the medical supplies she had used because she was ‘fairly certain you don’t have any of this where you’re staying.’

Then she handed Alec something she’d pulled out of the pocket of her apron. It was an EpiPen. “Take it,’ she said when Alec protested they didn’t need it. “I’ve another in my office. The body’s a funny thing, Alec. Though I’ve been allergic to penicillin all my life, the strawberries didn’t happen until I was in my 40s. They were my favourite fruit until the day they nearly killed me. Didn’t need the pen til then. Ellery may have always reacted with hives or a rash in the past, but that’s no promise he’ll react that way in the future.” 

Alec took the injector. “Thank you.” He looked at Q and back at Grace, shaking his head. “Not quite the coffee break I had planned.”

Grace slapped her thighs with her hands and stood. “We’ll take care of that, then. Stay right here. I’ll get everything fresh.” And with that, she quickly collected the detritus of their first attempt and was directing Sam for a fresh pour of Alec’s coffee and the water for Q’s tea before she was three steps across the shop with the tray in her hands.


	9. Check-In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know he’s in there, Moneypenny."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say how much it thrills us that so many of you are enjoying this little tale of ours. We *think* we may have crafted something unique here, and with so many of you saying how you're connecting with this Alec and Q, perhaps we are right in that assessment. Keep the comments coming. They really do sustain us.

“I know he’s in there, Moneypenny,” Alec stood outside in the freezing weather, mobile in one hand, cigarette in the other as he watched Q sat in front of the television through the window. P. Allen Smith was telling him how to build mounds in the garden to successfully grow a producing zucchini crop. Of course, he still wasn’t sure what exactly Q was seeing and comprehending. 

“I only left him alone long enough to take things out to the bin and walk a quick perimeter sweep, and when I came back I found it. Blender completely taken apart. All the little pieces lined up neatly on the counter.”

“Sounds like Q,” Moneypenny laughed. 

“And he did it with a butter knife! Left it all lying there for 4 days hoping he’d put it back together but never happened, so into the bin it went. He’s in there! I know he is. Just a matter of...” Moneypenny listened as Alec rambled on like a proud parent whose child had won the science fair. 

“We stopped at the hardware store and he latched onto some potted herbs they had on display. Couldn’t get him to put them back so home they came with us. You would have thought he was carrying nitroglycerin on his lap the way he cradled them.”

“And then I found an entire schematic for an irrigation system for a garden and veg plot drawn on the front windows with a dry erase marker.” 

“As you said Alec, he’s in there somewhere. Please don’t give up on him.”

“Never Moneypenny. Tell M we’re making progress. Slow, but progress. Do whatever you can to not let him set a deadline. Because that’s not happening. Fuck his protocols. Remind him we had an agreement. Doing this my way.” Just then he heard Tanner come into her office. Moneypenny dealt with what he needed without giving any indication she had Alec on the phone. Moneypenny was a true agent at heart and very capable of fending off the exploding anger Osler unleashed on the MI6 Administration offices when he found out 006 had absconded with the Quartermaster out of Medical. 

“There is one thing I need, Moneypenny,” he said when she finally cake back to their conversation. “Need you to run a check on a Grace Mikelson. Possible military background. Runs a local coffee shop here. Raven’s Roast Java.”

“Can do. Check back in a day or so for an update?”

“I’ll call Tuesday. Oh and Moneypenny.” The tone of his voice took on a serious note. “Poke someone in Medical as to why I didn’t get an emergency EpiPen for Q’s allergies in the medical supplies.”

Ringing off, he pocketed the mobile, leaned back against the porch railing, and took another drag on his cigarette. On the other side of the glass, Q continued to be seemingly riveted by the gardening show, and Alec was glad the satellite TV had finally reconnected. The storm had come in on time three days ago but had been much more violent than first predicted. Blizzard conditions had left six-foot drifts of snow against the western wall of the cabin and most of the outbuildings. 

They didn’t lose power -- though Alec had a generator in the barn if they had done -- but in addition to the telly, they’d lost Wi-Fi, so Q had kept himself occupied for the duration looking out the window at the storm’s effect on the lake and surrounding landscape. It was not lost on Alec that six weeks ago, not having access to the internet would have likely driven the Quartermaster spare in under an hour.

How much of this man was still the Quartermaster? How much of him was Q? What parts were Ellery? Or was he now something, some _ one _ else altogether? So many questions. 

As if sensing he was under scrutiny, Q looked up at Alec through the window. One of the other reasons Alec knew Q was still in there was his gaze. Q had a way of … well, not staring through something, but in staring through  _ to _ something. 

It hadn’t been that way in Medical. Alec had first noticed it in Modelo, Portugal -- their first stop to this new hidden life -- where they’d hooked up with one of 006’s assets, a forger who created three new sets of documents for the Quartermaster. Q’s stare had so unsettled Renato that the man claimed not even his _mamãe_ looked at him with such appraisal. 

Alec, however, did not avert his eyes as Renato had. He faced Q head-on. Every time. What Q saw when he looked at him that way, Alec didn’t know. He figured they’d address it when Q started speaking again.

And he  _ would _ start speaking again.

Though a huge risk, Alec didn’t regret his choice in spiriting Q away. He doubted Osler and his cronies at the treatment centre would have seen even  _ this _ much improvement in Q’s condition, but he still needed care, and Alec was wholly unqualified to provide it. 

If his instincts were correct, though, he may have found someone who could.

Crushing the last of his cigarette on the snow-dusted banister and tossing it in the can against the pillar, he pulled open the door and strode into the living room, stopping next to Q on the sofa. The two men had not broken eye contact. 

“Show me your hand, please, El,” Alec said and after a moment Q did. They’d stopped with the bandages last night, and it seemed to be healing well. “Looks good. This, however …” Alec pushed his hand into Q’s hair as he’d done a few times and as before, Q leaned into the caress, eyes falling shut at the contact. “This needs a bit of trim or I’ll be forced to start plaiting it. And the beard’ll have you looking like Hagrid, soon. Don’t think that’s the look you're going for.” He continued to card through Q’s curls -- so bloody soft -- chuckling when Q slumped, boneless, against the cushions of the sofa.

“Just like a bloody cat,” Alec said fondly. “Take you into town in a few days and see if we can’t find a barber. I could take a pair of shears to you, but I don’t think you’d thank me for it.” Q’s eyes opened at that, and for a moment Alec thought he saw a flash of … something that looked a bit like ‘the fuck, you will’. Alec smiled. “I look forward to you telling me off again, Q. I’m a patient man.”

With a final tweak of Q’s curls, Alec turned for the kitchen. “Dinner in five, Ellery. Even you can’t tell me you’re not looking forward to the stew. Bloody slow cooker’s had  _ me _ drooling for the last four hours.”

  
  



	10. Shave and a Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec turned to Q and said in his ear, “Don’t worry about the razor, El. Cutthroats can be a tad intimidating if you haven’t been around them, but I watched him with the last guy. Knows what he’s about, and I’m here to protect you from stray nicks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! Another bonus chapter! Something to get you ready for the (undoubtedly) odd work week ahead. Personally, we're neither of us fans of this work-from-home thing, but we get why it's necessary. Be well! Stay safe! Leave comments! <3

By Wednesday, the snow had let up and roads cleared enough that they could make their way into town. A few essentials at the grocery, a haircut for Q, and a trip to Raven’s Roast Java for a chat with one Grace Mikelson was the agenda for the day. 

Eve’s background research on Grace had turned up interesting intel. 

A native of Devil’s Gulch, sixty-three-year-old Grace left home when she was 18 and enlisted in the Navy as a hospital corpsman where she quickly demonstrated some serious innate medical skills. 

Sometime during her first tour, she decided she wanted something more. Grace went to college then on to medical school where she studied psychiatry, re-enlisting in the Navy as an officer when her residency was complete. She moved quickly up the ranks during multiple tours of duty in combat zones, eventually retiring with the rank of rear admiral. Decorated and honoured. 

All of this meant that psychiatrist Grace Mikelson had at one point held a high-ranking clearance in the US Navy. Q seemed to respond to her, which to Alec was a plus. Osler would have a fit if he knew.

A bigger plus.

Based on that previous level of vetting, Moneypenny had started the process of creating an SIS security clearance for Grace and had forwarded Alec copies of the “Official Secrets” paperwork for her to sign. All he needed to do now was sweet talk Grace into helping Q. 

“Coat, El...” Alec held out Q’s green anorak, hoping he would take the initiative to put it on himself but Alec ended up having to zip him into it like a toddler. There were times Alec was convinced Q was being deliberately difficult, and this was likely one of them. 

The git. 

“Time to do something about this mop of hair.” Alec ruffled his finger through the dark curls that fell into Q’s eyes and stood out everywhere. Hair -- both atop his head and on his face -- seemed to be on Q’s  _ I don’t give a fuck  _ list. “Need to be presentable for our coffee outing. Best impressions and all that.” 

“Don’t even  _ think _ of cutting it short. The curls stay … just not so  _ many _ of them. He’s starting to look like a shrub.” Alec told the barber an hour later after they’d purchased their groceries: the cart ghost striking again by adding Ding Dongs, Mike and Ikes, and lemonade to the trolley. 

Q sat silently in the barber’s chair, cape draped about his body, staring straight ahead at the mirror as Alec gestured expansively at and around his head. “Something easy to take care of.” 

“And the beard?” the stylist asked, spinning Q around in the chair to face them again.

Q hadn’t shaved since sometime before his collapse, and the amount of hair and fuzz on his cheeks and chin had reached sheep shearing proportions in Alec’s opinion. “Wool clippers might be more effective than a razor, but don’t get rid of it all. It’s cold here. Again, something easy to take care of since I’ll probably be the one trimming it for a while.”

If the stylist found this odd, he didn’t say and crossed the room to gather what he’d need for Q’s shave.

Whilst he was gone, Alec turned to Q and said in his ear. “Don’t worry about the razor, El. Cutthroats can be a tad intimidating if you haven’t been around them, but I watched him with the last guy. Knows what he’s about, and I’m here to protect you from stray nicks.” He touched the side of Q’s face, and Q turned to look at him. “And if you’re really good, I’ll get you a lolly from the basket to suck on when we leave.” 

It was deliberate, the snark and the innuendo in his tone, reminiscent of that which had often bled into their conversations on comms. Designed to trigger some sort of response.  _ Any  _ kind of response.

The look in Q’s eyes remained impassive.

Alec sighed. Christ but Grace better be as good as she seemed on paper.

It took over an hour, but the mission to the barber was completed with a minimum of fuss: Q shorn and shaved, hair much more manageable. His ears showed again, but the tumble of curls remained on top of his head, and they wandered down the tarmac together heading towards the Raven’s Roast, Q sucking contentedly on the lime lolly he’d insisted Alec procure from the basket at the check-out counter. Insisted insofar as he refused to leave until Alec found just the right one. Alec’s hand rested at the small of Q’s back since he kept lagging, drifting off to somewhere that Alec would really like to understand. 

“Barber did a decent job, El. Might just have to let him have a go at mine. Good job with your face, too.” The barber had trimmed him down to a fairly close shave with just the right amount of stubble still remaining. He looked good. Very good. “Don't mind a bit of facial hair, but I don't want to snog a mountain man." 

Alec came to a screeching halt at what he’d just heard himself say. An utterly startled ‘where the fuck did  _ that  _ come from’ moment. 

Q slowly turned to face him... staring, making unblinking eye contact, but the look wasn’t the vacant one Alec usually saw. It was the clear, piercing gaze that made it obvious  _ Q _ was still in there somewhere. And after that Freudian Slip, the one Alec really didn’t want to see.

“I just... we...” Alec stammered, all his Double-O training drifting away at the moment. “Coffee... we need coffee and to speak with Grace.” Hand at Q’s elbow, Alec turned him towards the coffee shop again. “Bloody hell, I wish you would talk to me...” 

The comforting scent of freshly roasted coffee drifted out on a cloud of warm air as Alec steered Q through the door of Raven’s Roast a few minutes later. 

“ _ You _ !” 

Caught as it was in the post-lunch lull of late afternoon, Alec had no problem hearing the exclamation that sounded through the relatively quiet coffee shop.

“Wha-”

“Not one word, young man!” Grace Mikelson pointed a finger at the table they had used their first time in. “Sit down. Shut up. I’ll be with you two when I’m done here.” She turned her attention back to the customer whose order she had been taking, clearly dismissing Alec in the process.

Slipping off Q’s coat and hanging it on a nearby peg, Alec sat Q in the chair he’s used before, himself taking one that provided the best view of the room and the street beyond the wide, glass windows. As before, Q seemed content with his own thoughts and the soothing blue paint of the wall. Alec, however, kept the majority of his attention on Grace as she bustled behind the counter, taking care of her customer’s order. Petite, with short grey-blonde hair, and a lean frame that hinted at being a runner’s, her motions were quick and efficient. Economical in a way typical of medical personnel. The influence of her early years as a hospital corpsman.

“Here you go, Ellen,” he heard her say pleasantly, handing the woman her takeaway cuppa, and he only just contained his jump of surprise when her blue eyes darted back to his when Ellen left the store. 

Grace was livid.

Christ. How had things gone tits up already? He hadn’t even talked to her yet. This  _ had  _ to work. Too much was riding on it for Q to --

Something skimmed the side of his hand atop the table. He looked down.

Though he had not turned his attention from the wall, Q’s fingers slid alongside his, barely brushing the skin but grabbing Alec’s attention enough to still his rapidly tapping fingers that didn’t remotely portray the cool indifference he’d long since perfected as a Double-O. What was it about this mission that had stripped him of all his defences? 

“Annoying you, am I?” Alec scoffed, trying to not betray the fact that he was practically dancing inside himself at what he hoped had been a deliberate action on Q’s part. “Look, here’s a lot riding on this, and I--”

“Here’s a nice hot cup of Earl Grey and a triple chocolate caramel brownie for you, Ellery.” Grace set a small tray down in front of Q. “It’s just as you take it, I think, but still too hot to drink, so warm your hands around it for a bit. It’s ridiculously cold out there today.”

She sat down in the chair across from Alec. Speaking in low tones so as not to be overheard, her voice held none of the warmth she had used with Q. “Nothing for  _ you  _ until I hear an explanation as to why I received a phone call at 3 a.m. this morning from someone at the British Special Intelligence Services informing me that not only has my US Navy security clearance been reinstated, but that I’d cleared a Counter-Terrorism Check and Developed Vetting by MI-fucking-Six so that I can take on the treatment and mental health care of SIS Asset: Ellery Kildale. Start  _ talking _ , Alec. What have you pulled me into?”

“Look, I can see you’re not happy with how this came about, but what matters is that Ellery needs your help. He seems to trust you, and you have the clearance and the skills to do what he needs.” Alec leaned on the table so he could keep the focus of the conversation between them. “You know how to connect with him.”

“Not going to cut it, Alec. More information. You’re a long way from home, clearly involved in more than you led me to believe the other day, and it makes me wonder why. And no, I am  _ so  _ not happy at all with any of this.” Grace shook a finger at him, but with her other hand edged the plate holding the triple chocolate caramel brownie closer towards Ellery.

“Who the hell is Eve Moneypenny?! Sounds like a cocktail the bars down at the resorts created for the 20-something crowd. And why do I have a file in my email that is 90% redacted except for the last few months of generic medical reports?!”

“Eve is the personal aide to the Director of MI6.” Alec glanced at Q, who sipped his tea acting as if the others sniping at each other at the table didn’t even exist. 

“Avoidance will  _ not _ score you any points, Kildale.”

“I brought Ellery here in hopes the isolation and quiet would help him recover. It’s a safe place. He wasn’t improving where we were. His treatment was shite.” Alec found himself babbling. “I thought I could…” Alec sighed leaning back in his chair taking a long look at oblivious Q. “I am  _ so  _ out of my depth. I need your help.  _ Ellery  _ needs your help, Grace.”

Grace’s anger churned. This man had invaded her world of peace and quiet and was trying to bring back to it the chaos she had deliberately walked away from when she retired from the Navy. Grace scowled at him. Then she saw Ellery slowly sneak one finger out towards the plate to poke carefully at the brownie waiting for him.

You know how to connect with him. Alec’s words repeated in her head. Ellery needs your help.

Damn it! 

“Tell me everything,” Grace sighed, “and start from the beginning, so I know  _ just  _ what I’m dealing with here.”


	11. What Happened in Q-Branch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There would have been clear signs that this had been coming on for weeks ahead of time. No one noticed?! Or, worse, they noticed and chose not to do anything about it.” Alec wished he could contradict her assessment but …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! It's Tuesday! Official, non-bonus, update day! 
> 
> Just a reminder that this story deals with complicated issues of mental health. Q's mental illness is a hybrid of several conditions, but that is to in no way negate the experiences of those who suffer from and seek treatment for (or don't seek treatment for) mental illness. Neither should it draw away from the experiences of those who love and care for those with mental illnesses. No one person's experience is the same. We ask you to remember this as well as the fact that this story has been deliberately tagged as "Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings." We will provide this reminder every so often.

They talked for hours before he showed her the footage from the secure file Moneypenny had sent him.  DV clearance was the most detailed and comprehensive security clearance possible. It gave Grace uncontrolled access to Top Secret assets, which both Q and Alec were, so it meant that there were no restrictions on what Alec could share with her. He went into great detail about the aspects of MI6 he felt were pertinent to her most immediate understanding of Ellery's situation, and what he felt was the cause of it. Her vocabulary now included terms like Quantum, Spectre, Nine Eyes, Operations Officer, and Quartermaster. 

Ellery wasn’t just some upper management paper-pusher. An asset, Eve Moneypenny had called him in her email. An  _ asset _ . From what Alec indicated, that word was woefully insufficient to the true value Ellery had when it came to keeping the United Kingdom, and by extension other countries, safe from foreign aggression. The role of The Quartermaster was, quite simply, daunting, but Alec left her with a better understanding of the exhausting, unending role Ellery -- no,  _ Q  _ \-- played. He also shared with her a bit about the life of a Double-O as well as the intensely intimate connection that could develop between a handler and their agent after hours spent on mission ‘comms’. 

The CCTV footage from what Alec called ‘Q-Branch’ -- the centre of the Quartermaster’s domain -- was raw and painful. Exposed and wounded as the man himself had been. Three times she watched the situation play out in black and white. Q’s long, unnatural pause after the mission. The eerily calm manner in which he reached for the gun beneath his workstation and pressed it to his head. The chilling, hushed pleas from the woman called R. Alec’s skilled playacting and powerful restraint of the desperate Q.

Grace leaned back in her desk chair, hand pressed to her mouth in thought. She’d seen breaks before. Both in-person and on video but this … 

Her heart ached for the man. For both of them, really.

Then she watched the 90 minutes preceding the incident.

It was  _ that _ which caused her to rage with indignation on his behalf. 

“Clear signs …”

“What?” Alec sat in the chair next to her. He’d guided Grace through all the footage, answering questions and familiarising her with the people and the circumstances of the situation.

“This didn’t just happen, Alec,” she snapped, pointing at the screen. Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Grace jumped up from her chair and paced the length of the windows in her living room. 

Sensitive conversations -- be they top-secret intelligence or patient confidentiality -- needed more privacy than could be had in a coffee shop, so she’d closed up shop early, bringing Alec and Ellery to the privacy of her home, an old carriage house sat directly behind the larger Raven’s Roast. The two buildings had been among the first built in Devil’s Gulch and in her family for generations. 

“There would have been clear signs that this had been coming on for weeks ahead of time. No one noticed?! Or, worse, they noticed and chose not to do anything about it.” Alec wished he could contradict her assessment but … 

Grace knew. She’d seen it all before. Had retired when she finally realised she couldn’t mitigate the callousness of her government’s bureaucracy on the health of its servicemembers. Or stomach it. She could still look at things with a clinical, dispassionate eye, but she abhorred incompetence. It always set her off, and here was evidence of some of the worst she’d seen. 

She paused at the sight of Ellery curled up on her sofa. Cricket -- her black and white tuxedo cat -- was snuggled up against his belly, and Ellery had his hand curled about her small body. They were both sound asleep, Cricket purring up a storm. Grace looked at Alec and again at the frozen image on the computer screen of him cradling a broken Q in his arms on the floor of Q-Branch. 

She glared at Alec. “You know, from the minute you spilled scalding water all over Ellery’s hand, I just  _ knew  _ the two of you were going to end up causing me no end of trouble.”

Alec felt his heart drop to his stomach. If she didn’t hel--

“Good thing for you I’m an idiot and tend to run  _ toward  _ trouble rather than away from it. Or so my Aunt Miriam always says. God help me. Fine, I’m in.” She’d come out of retirement to try and repair the damage done by yet another government to one of its most loyal servants. 

Alec’s smile nearly split his face.

The next afternoon, Grace left Raven’s Roast in the capable hands of her assistant manager Sam and the two high school girls who occasionally helped her after school so she could be in the privacy of her own space to chat with Eve Moneypenny after work hours in the U.K. An attempt to glean every detail about Ellery to help with his care and, hopefully, recovery. 

Eve was the closest friend Ellery had. She had urged him to take time for himself but he consistently refused, feeling compelled to keep up a ceaseless pace though she pointed out it was killing him. He had agents to protect, and they came first. She sadly joked about the Queen and Country obsession that consumed some of those inside the agency. 

She was more than willing to talk about the few people in Ellery’s circle. His need for companionship, but the solitary life he really led. Eve spoke to his brilliance, creativity, and behind the Quartermaster facade what a caring friend he was. How others underestimated him constantly, and yet she considered him possibly more dangerous than those agents with a ‘license to kill’. 

Before the end of their two-hour chat, Eve reiterated her promise to have a version of Q’s file with fewer redactions in Grace’s email by morning. She also assured Grace that no one other than she would know the name or location of Q’s new doctor. “Q taught me how to lock down a paper trail so no one here can find it unless they know  _ precisely  _ where to look. Just never thought I’d have to use it to protect him.”

Pushing back from her desk, Grace eyed the legal pad in front of her. Pages upon pages of shorthand notes from her conversation with Eve. Grace felt she knew much more about the inner workings of Ellery Kildale but had been left with new questions that needed answers. Especially about the true relationship between Alec -- who Eve has referred to as that bat shite crazy Russian -- and his Quartermaster. Grace never believed for a moment they were a married couple, not even before watching the video essentially confirming it, but there was clearly a close connection there. Alec was completely invested in Ellery’s recovery, and not just because he was a desperately needed British asset.

For all the information she had, though, it was only one perspective, one aspect of the young man she had taken on as her only patient. It was time she took a trip out to Alec’s cabin to have another conversation with him, fill in some blanks, and spend some time observing just how Ellery functioned in his daily routine. 

  
  
  
  



	12. Missing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Except something woke him. Not dangerous but … not right, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on recent comments, Grace seems to be a favourite for many of you. She is for us, too. So glad she's well-received. Let us know what you think of this update if you would. We love hearing from you.

Alec woke with a start, hand sliding beneath his pillow for his Sig. He cocked his head to the right. The left. Listening. 

Nothing.

All was quiet. The now-familiar stillness of the cabin in the middle of the night.

Except something woke him. Not dangerous but … not right, either.

He rolled out of bed and into some slippers, shrugging into the jumper he’d worn yesterday. He pushed back the part in the blackout curtains just enough to survey the property below. Nothing seemed amiss on this side of the cabin. Tucking his weapon into the waistband of his sleep trousers, he stopped first to check the loo across the hall. 

Empty as it should be.

So too, the second guest bedroom next to it.

He didn’t knock on the door to the master bedroom. It was never fully shut, so Alec pushed through as he usually did when he checked on Q after returning from a perimetre check or a trip to the loo.

“El?” 

Q was not in bed. Nor was he curled up on the plush rug in front of the fireplace where Alec had found him once or twice. The en suite was likewise empty.

Fuck!

Alec was down the staircase in a trice. Office, guest loo, mudroom … all empty.

And that was when he felt the cold draft coming from the front of the house. The outer door stood wide open. “Fuck!” Alec grabbed a rifle stashed in the gun cupboard and dashed out the door. Multiple panicked thoughts running through his head. 

A quick glance showed him the bare footprints didn’t lead down the steps and off into the frigid darkness but stayed on the porch that curved around the house. 

“El... Ellery!” Alec rushed around the far side hoping Q hadn’t managed to find his way over the banister, off the porch. The property on that side was heavily wooded and would make it difficult to track him. 

Oh Thank God! There he was. Curled up in a deck chair and wrapped in the throw off the sofa. Pyjama pants only. 

No shirt.

Bare feet. 

Shivering.

Sobbing.

Ignoring Alec’s calls for him.

Unable to make eye contact when Alec knelt in front of him. 

“What the fuck are you doing, El... Scared the shite out of me!” Finger under Q’s chin, he forced his face upwards only to be met by tear-filled, distant eyes. Frozen streaks of tears dusted his cheeks, “You’re freezing! What the fuck are you thinking, Ellery.”

Alec pulled him to his feet, quickly herding him back into the house, locking the door behind them. 

Once inside, he lifted Q in his arms, throw and all, and took the stairs two by two. Q immediately curled up into a tight ball atop his mattress when Alec set him down to get the shower running in the en suite. He was still crying when Alec returned.

“Sit up for me, please, El.” It took a few tries for Alec to roll Q back upright. “There’s a lad.” He unwrapped the death grip Q had on the throw, straightening out his frigid fingers one by one -- they truly were stiff with cold -- and unwrapped him from the blanket. “Christ, how long were you out there?”

He knew he wouldn’t get an answer to his question, so he pulled Q gently to his chilled feet and walked him to the shower. Tears continued to flow unchecked from his eyes, and he was bent nearly double by whatever internal demon was tormenting him. He was completely dependent on Alec to keep him upright. It was clear he’d never be able to warm in the shower standing on his own two feet.

Alec looked at the shower. At Q. There was nothing for it.

He sighed and sat Q on the closed lid of the toilet so he could strip down to his pants. Then tucking his head beneath Q’s arm, he lifted Ellery a bit off the seat, pulling off his sleep trousers and pants in one go. Q would have to be the one to forgo modesty because Alec was not about to wrestle wet pants off him now to get him into dry ones later.

Rolling clouds of steam spilled from the large shower when Alec opened the glass door and stepped them through. He turned Q away from the spray and wrapped him in a loose embrace to keep him from sliding to the floor. Q’s arms hung at his sides but he pressed his face into the crook of Alec’s neck, the tears a slightly cooler sensation against the heat of his skin and that of the water. 

“I see you, Ellery,” Alec said into Q’s ear just as he’d done all those weeks ago in Q-Branch.

He had no idea if it had helped then or if it would now, but it was something.

“I will always see you.”

Ninety minutes later, a warm, dry, hot tea-infused Q slept deeply in his bed, but he was not alone. Alec lay beside him, Q tucked in closely at his side. Though Alec had intended to keep watch at Q’s bedside the rest of the night, Q himself had had other plans. When Alec rose from the mattress to settle himself in the chair, Q wrapped his fingers in the fabric of Alec’s jumper and would not let go. 

They remained there still.

Alec looked at the tousled curls beneath his hand and was so bloody grateful he’d found Q before he’d gone hypothermic. He’d been genuinely frightened when he couldn’t find Q, but that fear hadn’t been just for Q’s safety. It had been more than that. He’d feared losing Q. Of losing … something he couldn’t even put a name to, but if his realisation in the street the other day that he wanted to snog Q senseless wasn’t enough of a tell then this ... 

Alec was swimming into waters far deeper than he’d anticipated but found he really couldn’t be arsed to struggle back to the lifeless shore. 

But Christ, this was such a fucked up situation. Too many questions. Virtually no answers. Q’s recovery would come first. It  _ must  _ come first. His very life depended on it. Anything Alec might wonder about beyond that was a very,  _ very  _ distant second.

Alec groaned and scrubbed at his face. 

Q shivered in his sleep. 

Alec tucked the duvet more closely about Q’s back and left his hand resting atop his hip. Keeping him close. 

“What do you want from me, Q?” Alec asked into the darkness.

As usual, there was no reply.


	13. A Day with Ellery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace spent the day wandering around with Q. Chatting with him -- well, at him -- engaging him in what he was doing, commenting on the television shows that seemed to draw his attention. Observing and assessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another bonus chapter for all you wonderful readers! Comments are so very appreciated right now. We love your words as much as you seem to love ours.

Alec woke to the sound of his phone ringing _somewhere_ in the house. Not on the side table next to his bed, because he wasn’t anywhere near his own bed. He was in Ellery’s, spooned tight behind him, arm wrapped snug around his waist. Dark curls stirred underneath his chin when he moved, slapping at the bedside table for a phone that wasn’t there. The ringing stopped. Then started again. Wash, rinse, repeat. Again… 

“Need to get the phone, El. Could be Moneypenny,” Alec crawled out of bed. Q slid out right behind him, grabbing onto the tail of Alec’s jumper. 

“Alright. Alright. We’re coming.” Alec muttered to no one in particular, making a circuit of the house, following the persistent ring that seemed to be coming from everywhere, and yet nowhere he actually looked. Q padded along behind him, both hands clutching Alec’s jumper, tagging along in search of the annoying, ringing phone. 

“What!” Was the answer the caller got when he finally found his mobile downstairs in the kitchen sink, not remembering tossing it there during his early morning search for Ellery. 

“Well, aren’t you cheery this morning. We need to talk, Alec. About Ellery. “ Q pressed himself tightly against Alec’s back leaning his forehead between Alec’s shoulder blades. 

“We’ve had a rough night, Grace. Not today.” Reaching behind him, he pulled Q around to sit on a tall chair at the kitchen counter, within reach. 

“After a rough night might be a perfect time, Alec. Would help me to see Ellery when things are bad. Know more of what I’m dealing with,” Grace persisted, playing the Ellery trump card. 

Alec sighed, looking at the dark circles under the eyes of the haunted man in front of him. He should say no. Insist on it. “Alright. Fine.” He gave in. “Give us time to dress. I’ll start some breakfast. And Grace, the least you can do is bring pastries. A lot of them. Something chocolate for, El. He needs it.”

Two hours later, Grace and Alec sat together at the kitchen table, the detritus of breakfast between them, sipping cups of the dark roast she’d brought in a thermos along with the pastries. They watched Q who was sat on the sofa in the living area, plate balanced on his knees. Though he occasionally lifted a forkful of cold omelet or a corner of chocolate croissant to his mouth, his attention was fixated on the telly where Monty Don was giving winter gardening advice.

Q was still tethered to Alec’s jumper when Grace had arrived, shying away from her warm hello like an abused animal, avoiding eye contact completely. She hadn’t taken it personally and though it took the better part of an hour of interacting with him as she had before -- with direct questions and statements she didn’t expect a response to but that indicated her genuine interest -- eventually Q relaxed enough to let go of Alec.

Breakfast followed soon afterward.

“I’ve no idea what triggered it,” Alec said around a yawn and poured himself more of the magical elixir Grace had brought. He’d got maybe an hour of sleep, and though as a Double-O he’d more than once gone days without sleep, even he knew it had been because he wasn’t emotionally invested in the outcome. Emotionally invested was where he lived now, and it was bloody exhausting. “El seemed fine when he went off to bed. Was even snoring when I checked in on him after my rounds.”

“It could be anything, but based on his reaction when I arrived, I’m guessing it was our conversation the other day. Ellery hears everything. Sees everything. But he’s processing it in his own way and in his own time right now. He knows he and I are about to get down to work. Try to bring him back from where he is.” Grace nodded in Q’s direction. “He wants to come back or he wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to settle into his routine around me. He’s made a safe place for himself in his mind …”

“So last night was a reaction to being faced with leaving it?”

“It’s possible.” She leaned forward in her chair, bracing her forearms on the table between them to emphasise her next words. “Alec, healing the mind isn’t like healing the body. There are no hard and fast rules and everyone responds in their own time and in their own way. You have to understand, I can’t promise I’ll be able to bring the Quartermaster back, or Q, or even Ellery. Ultimately, it’s up to him, and if he does come back, you have to be prepared that he may not be exactly who he was before.”

Alec looked at Q across the room. “I miss his voice,” he admitted, turning to look at Grace. She was struck by the loneliness she saw there. “Just try to give me that much, please.”

“What’s it like?”

“His voice?” Alec smiled at the memories of having Q in his ear. “Tenor … a rich one. Full. Melodious. Knows how to use it to his advantage. Get his point across. Painfully at times.” Alec drank again from his mug.

“Is his accent like yours?” 

Alec practically choked on his coffee. “Christ no!” He laughed. “Bloody posh thing, El is. A true RP accent. Could’ve announced for the BBC in another life if he wanted.” He pushed away from the table and started collecting the dishes.

“I’ll do everything I can, Alec,” Grace said, grasping his wrist lightly.

Alec nodded. “That’s all I ask.” He took the dishes for washing up, making sure Grace was off to find Ellery before bracing his hands against the sides of the sink and sighing deeply. 

Right or wrong, Alec’s loyalty had always gone first to James Bond; England came second, so when it became increasingly apparent through Six scuttlebutt and rumours within the world of espionage at large that Bond had given up the game for good, Alec had found his focus starting to wane. A bit at loose ends, he’d started to consider other options for himself. What his own life would look like without Six, or James, in it. That is until an overly confident, yet extremely _competent_ posh voice started babbling in his ear. A voice he had started to rely upon and eventually, _surprisingly,_ learn to trust.

He hadn’t realised the depth to which he missed Q’s voice, _needed_ it, until just now.

Grace spent the rest of the day wandering around with Q. Chatting with him -- well, _at_ him -- engaging him in what he was doing, commenting on the television shows that seemed to draw his attention. Observing and assessing. 

She even watched Q stare for 20 minutes at the herb plants Alec had let him tote home from the hardware store. They sat on a table in the southern sun and were as well-tended as any young plants could be. 

When he was done, he searched the house or Alec. It was disjointed and distracted, but he was clearly looking. When Q finally found Alec in the barn, it began another hour of him attached to the tails of Alec’s jumper like a shadow. 

Alec didn’t seem to mind. He maneuvered through his tasks, taking Q by the elbow or by the hips to move him this way or that, but never expecting or demanding that Q break contact. 

Q said nothing. There wasn’t a hint that he even _thought_ about speaking, and only a few brief times did Grace catch what could be construed as minimal eye contact. 

When the setting sun sparked the tips of the mountaintops to the west and Julia Child was making proper scrambled eggs on the telly, Q tucked himself into a corner of the sofa and drifted off to sleep. Alec, in what was clearly a normal part of his routine, appeared out of nowhere to tuck a throw blanket around the sleeping man. Alec ran a hand through the messy dark curls splayed out across the arm of the sofa, hesitating for a moment. He looked at Grace who sat across the room watching the quiet moment play out in front of her and nodded towards the kitchen. 

“Made a pot of coffee if you’re interested.”

“Sounds perfect.” Grace stood and followed him towards the kitchen. “I have some more questions.” 

“Of course you do,” Alec snorted. 

He poured them each a mug and offered her a few of the chocolate biscuits he and Q had made together the day before. Well, _together_ was something of a misnomer. Alec had measured and poured and cursed and mixed and shaped and swore and baked and bitched whilst Q sat silently on a stool opposite him at the kitchen island, watching every single thing Alec did. 

As for the biscuits, they were a little too flat and a tad crispy around the edges, but Alec hadn’t made biscuits before. They were all he had if he wanted to save the rest of the ones Grace had brought for Q.

“They’re not as good as yours,” he admitted when she grabbed one off the plate.

“Yes, well, to be fair, none are as good as mine,” Grace said before taking a bite. Cookie in mouth, she took the plate and her coffee and sat down in her previous chair at the table. She was still crunching the cookie when Alec sat opposite her where he could still keep an eye on the sleeping Quartermaster. 

Alec bit into a biscuit. It tasted better than he’d thought it would. “Ask your questions,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. 

“I need to know how much autonomy I have in treating Ellery.”

“Complete. He’s your patient.”

Grace couldn’t help the slight huff that escaped her lips. “I find it hard to believe that MI6 is going to allow me to treat their Quartermaster without so much as a regular report.”

“No reports, Grace!” Alec snapped, eyes darting to Q, ensuring he was still asleep. “Not to Six, not even to Eve.”

Grace frowned. She’d spent over 20 years in the Navy honing her bullshit detector. Right now it was screaming. “This is MI-fucking-Six we’re talking about here. I don’t need some assassin showing up on my doorstep because someone thinks I’m jeopardizing their Quartermaster.” 

“That’s exactly the point!”

“Not enough. What aren’t you telling me, Ruan ‘Alec’ Kildale?”

“Trevelyan. Aleksandr Kostya _Trevelyan_ , Operations Officer Six of Her Majesty’s Secret Service, and if I’m going to tell you how I actually _kidnapped_ the Quartermaster to get him away from MI6, might as well tell you who I really am, too.”

Along with his British accent, Grace watched the outer shell of Ruan Kildale fall away and the hardened Operations Officer, Aleksandr Trevelyan appear. He gave her a short version of his background and how he was recruited from the Royal Navy along with his closest friend, James Bond. A relationship Grace would explore at a later time, based on what he said, or rather, didn’t say. 

After that an emotional Slavic voice explained how the resident MI6 psychiatrist assigned to the Quartermaster’s treatment was going to ship him off to a secured facility to recover, giving him six weeks to show some progress. How in his current state Q was considered a liability... compromised. If no progress was shown within the allotted time, Q would be considered eligible for “retirement”. 

Alec stood to refill their coffee cups, hesitating as he put the pot back, “Look at him, Grace. How he is now. If I had let them continue along with their plans, where do you think he would be? Six feet under, that’s where! Unacceptable!”

“They wouldn’t have...”

“Oh yes, they would!” A brief flash of anger crossed his face but his voice fell to a whisper. “I managed to convince the higher-ups that Ellery was too valuable of an asset to follow that path yet, but I have orders to kill him if he doesn’t show progress back to himself.”

Alec handed Grace her refilled cup and sat back at the table across from her. “I conned them, Grace. All of them. Our boss still believes I’ll follow his orders when it comes to Q, but I won’t. I will _not_ kill him. I absconded with him in the middle of the night. Spare clothing from his flat, a few belongings, and his meds. Anything else we need ... I have funds stashed away. Always have a contingency plan.”

Alec sat back in his chair watching the sleeping Q. “He would have never recovered there.” Grace sat quietly and watched as a gamut of emotions morphed across Alec’s face before his attention turned back to their conversation. 

“Eve Moneypenny knows you’re in Devil’s Gulch,” Grace pointed out. “Or at least she knows _I’m_ in Devil’s Gulch… the vetting. But from my conversation with her, I get the sense she’d sacrifice herself if it meant Ellery’s safety.”

He nodded. Eve’s unwavering loyalty to Ellery was a fixed point.

“No one else ... _no_ one else,” Alec pointedly emphasised, “knows where we are, and I intend to keep it that way.” It was a statement with an underlying threat behind it, but it was the cold, hard look in his eyes when he looked at her again that told Grace that Aleksandr Kostya Trevelyan would do anything to keep his Quartermaster safe ... anything. 


	14. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orange, pink, and purple hues streaked across the horizon as the sun slowly emerged. Always an early riser, this was one of his favourite times of the day. The inhabitants of the island cove just waking. Rested. Ready for a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those waiting for Bond to appear ...

The water lapped peacefully at the shore just inches from his feet. Steam curled upwards from the cup of coffee that hung from his fingers as he sat watching the sea. 

Orange, pink, and purple hues streaked across the horizon as the sun slowly emerged. Always an early riser, this was one of his favourite times of the day. The inhabitants of the island cove just waking. Rested. Ready for a new day. 

Fishermen already in their boats, setting rig and bait. Heading out to bring in the catch of the day. 

Locals stirred. Rose. Faced the day in all its glory. 

And he sat in contemplative silence. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Sip of coffee. 

Maybe he would fish today. 

Take a nap. 

Take a walk. 

Take another nap. 

Visit the market. Haggle over fish and produce. 

Have a drink and visit with the local fisherman about their latest escapades. 

Sip of coffee.

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Bloody hell... 

when did his life get so quiet... 

predictable… 

and boring. 

They’d gone to dinner at his local last night.

Conch and dumplings.

She  _ acquiesced _ to his request. 

Too ‘rough and tumble’ for her.

He liked rough and tumble.

Needed it.

A spark ignited along his nerves when the first punch was thrown.

Needing became craving.

Not our concern, she’d said.

And tugged lightly on his elbow.

_ He’d _ acquiesced.

Though he’d ached.

For something more than conch and dumplings.

Or fishing.

Naps.

Or sunrises.

Something more than just … breathing.

He thumbed open his mobile.

Scrolled down to the last name on the list.

First in his mind.

Sasha.

His thumb hovered over the name.

Press it.

Connect to his old life.

Press it.

Make the ache go away.

Or make it worse.

Press it.

Find out.

He pushed the mobile back into his pocket.

Out of sight.

Looked back at the sunrise.

This is the life he had sought for so long.

He sipped his coffee.

_ This _ is why he had left.

A year.

Breath in …

Stable.

Breathe out ...

Constant.

Breath in …

The water reached his toes. 

Caressed them.

More soothing than his lover’s touch.

Breathe out …

This is the life he wanted.

…

...

Wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a tad different. We hope you enjoyed it.


	15. Espresso Machine Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You sure you don’t want at least weekends off?” Alec asked as Grace was leaving one evening. She’d spent a full day at the shop and had followed it up with two hours at the cabin talking to Q as he pottered silently about with the baby plants he’d started growing in the make-shift greenhouse Alec had thrown together in the south-facing guest bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many wonderful responses to the last chapter in which James finally makes his appearance. The reactions were just what we were hoping for. Thank you for reading and commenting. It's so important to be able to connect with everyone through fanfiction and our joint love of this fandom. <3 We appreciate you all.
> 
> Just a reminder that this story deals with complicated issues of mental health. Q's mental illness is a hybrid of several conditions, but that is to in no way negate the experiences of those who suffer from and seek treatment for (or don't seek treatment for) mental illness. Neither should it draw away from the experiences of those who love and care for those with mental illnesses. No one person's experience is the same as another's. We ask you to remember this as well as the fact that this story has been deliberately tagged as "Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings." We will provide this reminder every so often. Like today! :)

When he’d purchased the property outside Devil’s Gulch, the estate agent told him how mid-February in the Colorado Rockies could resemble that of the frozen tundra in Siberia. Okay. Fine. Not an issue. Alec had spent more than one winter in that arctic wasteland, but after the fourth blizzard, Alec decided that there was such as thing as _too_ much fucking snow! No more, fuck you very much! Fuck the ski resorts and their sodding record levels of fucking snowfall! 

Christ, he really was getting old. 

Ellery merely stared at him, eyes narrowed, whilst Alec ranted, then gone back to looking out the window at the “fucking snow!” Odd that the conditions didn’t appear to bother Ellery as much as they had initially, and as long as El was content -- in his own way -- who was Alec to complain? 

Much.

Besides, the near-constant snow gave him a chance to improve his culinary skills. During the second blizzard, Alec had joined Ellery’s cooking show binge-watching and started putting his acquired knowledge into practice, discovering in the process what foods Q liked and disliked based on which shows he engaged with. 

Many one-sided conversations occurred watching telly whilst the snow fell beyond the windows of their unique world. 

Snow or not, Q had been meeting daily with Grace for just over three weeks. Sometimes their appointments lasted hours, other times, mere minutes depending on what Grace felt Q needed on any particular day. Whilst their sessions took place most regularly at Raven’s Roast in the early afternoon, they’d also met at Grace’s carriage house and out at the cabin. With Ellery nonverbal, Grace’s approach involved engaging him by talking about things she knew from Alec and Eve interested him, everything from basic coding to Doctor Who to photography and whiskies. Grace had clearly done her research, speaking knowledgeably about every subject. When they were at the shop, she encouraged her young employees -- Lucy, Mele, and Sam -- to do the same but with the things _they_ were interested in, thereby exposing him to more of the world around him. Sometimes she enlisted Ellery’s help in making some of the bloody amazing cakes and pastries that were on the shop’s daily and rotating menu. Whilst Q never helped cook at the cabin, he took quickly to the baking, always going home with a portion of what he had helped to make. 

Bit by bit, Q’s focus seemed to improve. At least Alec seemed to think so. 

El still didn't say a word.

“You sure you don’t want at least weekends off?” Alec asked as Grace was leaving one evening. She’d spent a full day at the shop and had followed it up with two hours at the cabin talking to Q as he pottered silently about with the baby plants he’d started growing in the make-shift greenhouse Alec had thrown together in the south-facing guest bedroom. 

“Tired of me already?” she replied. She linked her scarf around her neck and pulled on her heavy blue anorak. “Oh, stop looking guilty, Alec. I know you’d tell me to back off if you needed space.” Q was rubbing the cuff of her coat between his thumb and forefinger once she was zipped up. Familiar. It was quite similar to the olive green coat Alec had snagged from Q’s office the night they scarpered off. Ugly damn thing, but it kept Q warm. 

“No. I don’t want weekends off. Too much to do for this man of yours, here.” She smiled at Q. 

He blinked slowly in return.

“Grace …” Alec had rubbed at the back of his neck. He’d never actually got round to telling her he’d never met Q in person before that day in Q-Branch. “I know I said we are, but El and I … we’re not really married.”

“Lord, I never thought you were,” Grace scoffed. She took Q’s hand in hers, gave it a squeeze, and opened the door. “The video made that clear enough, but I didn’t even buy that story your first day in my shop. Figured you had your reasons for telling it, though.”

“What?! The story was completely believable!” Alec had sold more complex narratives in the field for well over a decade. “How did you--”

“Alec, you didn’t even know how Ellery took his _tea_ .” She cocked an eyebrow at the obvious. “Something a husband would _know_ , don’t you think? Even though you’re not married to him, Alec, doesn’t mean Ellery’s not your man. See you tomorrow!” 

Alec had watched, open-mouthed, as she pulled the door shut behind her and disappeared past the windows and down the stairs to her Outback.

“The fuck?”

Q had turned his attention to Alec from following Grace’s departure down the drive. Face impassive. 

He didn’t even blink.

For several seconds.

Finally, he walked past Alec and waited at the base of the stairs. He was ready for bed. 

“Fine,” Alec groused. “Head on up. Be there in a minute.”

Once Q disappeared up the stairs, Alec headed to the kitchen to pour two glasses of water. One for each nightstand. Firmly choosing _not_ to think about what Grace would have to say when she found out that he and Q continued to share a bed since the night he found Ellery outside on the porch. 

Platonic!

If waking up every morning together tangled in a complex snuggle could be called platonic.

Christ.

Alec had been so worried about a repeat performance of Q’s frigid wanderings, it had taken several nights before he’d stopped sleeping in the chair in Q’s room. Once he had, El kept crawling into Alec’s bed in the middle of the night anyway, so it only made sense they just make use of the larger, king-sized bed in the master suite and be done with it.

It didn’t mean that Q was ‘his man.”

It was a _safety_ precaution.

A large thump sounded from above. 

Alec sighed. He knew that thump. One of the things suggesting Q might be a tad better was that he now occasionally tried to get Alec’s attention a bit more directly. 

The first time he heard ‘the thump’, it sounded like a body had hit the floor. Alec rushed up the stairs, convinced something catastrophic had happened to Q. But no. Q had been curled up in bed, seemingly asleep, everything fine save for three heavy-bound books that had ‘fallen’ from the bookshelf onto the wooden floor. It took two more night for Alec to twig to the fact Q was doing it deliberately because he felt Alec was taking too long coming to bed.

Another thud.

Alec scrubbed his face with his hand, grabbed the glasses, and turned for the stairs.

“Don’t get your knickers in a bunch, you little shite! I’m coming!”

The next day took them to town, grocery list in hand. They had plans to reproduce a recipe of steamed fish with caramelized winter squash. Jacques Pepin had skillfully prepared it and assured them that _anyone_ could make this simple dish in their home kitchen. So far, Jacques had not been wrong. 

An appointment with Grace during her afternoon lull was also on the schedule. 

Alec and Q arrived at Raven’s Roast a tad later than planned. Q tagged along behind Alec, clutching the tail of his cold-weather gear in one hand. They had been delayed by a ‘debate’ at the Safeway when Alec had placed bananas in the cart only to have the Cart Ghost remove them, exchanging them with pears and a pineapple. Not once but three times. Finally, Alec compromised and purchased all of them. 

“Rough grocery adventure?” Grace asked, recognizing that particular look on Alec’s face. He just shrugged as if it was a normal trip to the grocery store ... everyone had them, right? They grabbed seats at their table while Grace took a phone order for a pastries delivery later in the week. 

Q had been restless all day, and Alec found it impossible to keep him seated. Sometimes it was the oddest things that would catch Q’s attention, and Alec never knew from one day to the next what it would be. One afternoon it was the arrangement of the condiments on the help yourself counter. Q rearranged them 10-12 times before he seemed satisfied with their placement which Grace agreed was far more efficient. Another day it was the order in which the regulars’ mugs were stacked and hung on the wall behind the till. Sam -- Grace's assistant manager by day, an artistic potter by night -- was so thrilled with the new arrangement he threw a special mug just for Q to sit along with all the rest. It was painted to look like a Tardis.

Today it seemed Grace’s espresso machine had caught Ellery's eye -- ooh shiny! Alec was convinced that Q must be part Corvidae. 

Q wandered behind the counter, watching as Sam worked the rig to build three take-away caramel macchiatos for Carol who waited patiently at the pick-up station at the far end. Q’s eyes took in everything. Every step in pulling the shot from grinding the beans to the free pour to disposing of the grounds in the ‘knock’ box. The portafilter seemed to be sticking a bit. Sam kept wrestling with it before and after each pull. 

Then Sam steamed the milk. Different techniques to generate a lot of foam or none at all, which was then followed by the cleaning of the steam wand.

Q lost interest, however, when Sam began to actually assemble the drinks. 

It was _all_ about the machine.

When Sam turned around after passing off the drinks to Carol, it was to the sight of Q with his head practically buried in the machine, looking up under the grouphead mechanism that held the portafilter, fingers dancing lightly on the shot buttons next to it. 

Alec had been rummaging through the newspaper rack near the door to see if there might be _one_ Sudoku puzzle left unsolved in a copy of _The Denver Post_. He’d had his back turned 15 seconds at most, but --

“Christ he moves quickly!” 

Before Alec could dash behind the counter, Sam -- who Alec appreciated for the easy way he had with Q; not everyone was so patient -- had recognised the danger the machine was in and quickly sliced a piece of the signature ‘cake of the day’. Q popped his head out from the espresso rig the moment he smelled chocolate approaching.

“Here you go, Ellery,” the young man said, passing him the plate. “It’s Grace’s latest: Chocolate Stout. Not only has _chocolate_ stout, but Guinness, too. And black coffee. And the icing?! Oh my god, man! To die for! She put Bailey’s in it! I don’t know how she keeps coming up with these things.”

Q stared at Sam for a moment longer.

“You’re welcome, El.” Sam smiled. “Don’t share it with Alec, though. That’s all yours.”

Q returned to their table and dug in.

* * *

  
  


For those of you interested in the cake Ellery is eating, here is the recipe that inspired it: <https://livforcake.com/baileys-guinness-cake/>


	16. Mary Ellen Wilson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, hell. It’s Mary Ellen,” Sam groaned. He had just set a cuppa in front of each Alec and Q when the silver bell above the door heralded the arrival of a new customer. “Talk about disasters. Brace yourself, man. This one’s a doozy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bonus chapter!!! Lots going on in the world, and we felt a bonus chapter might help lift some spirits. We hope you enjoy this one.

Things had been going so well. 

Sam had successfully diverted Q away from the espresso machine saving them all from what was sure to have been a chaotic mess. Alec still remembered the binned blender, after all. But the well-trained agent should have realized the worst was yet to come. Wasn’t that how it worked in the field? From one scary disaster to another without any time to regroup?

You reacted. You dealt with it. 

It must have been Alec’s, “Good catch, Sam. That would have been a nightmare,” that jinxed them. Alec knew better, at least you would have _thought_ he knew better. 

_Never_ say it out loud.

Alec’s words were practically still hanging in the air like a cartoon bubble when ...

“Oh, hell. It’s Mary Ellen,” Sam groaned. He had just set a cuppa in front of each Alec and Q when the silver bell above the door heralded the arrival of a new customer. “Talk about disasters. Brace yourself, man. This one’s a doozy.” 

The confusion on Alec’s face prompted Sam to continue. “Mary Ellen Wilson -- what’s that phrase you use? Oh! -- bloody scary, that one. Chairwoman of the Devil’s Gulch Parish Social Committee. A one-woman force of nature when it comes to town and church functions. She’s gonna ask Grace to help her with something. Watch out you don’t get roped into it, too,” Sam warned before heading back to the counter which Mary Ellen bypassed when she spotted Grace coming out of the kitchen to visit with Alec and Q. 

Oh no… by the gleam in Mary Ellen’s eye -- similar to a look that had oftentimes crossed the old M’s face -- Alec knew they were doomed. They’d largely managed to avoid interacting with too many of the locals but based on _that_ look, their reprieve was over. They were people she didn’t recognize, new to the community, and now on her radar. With Grace at their table, it wasn’t as if they could blend into the background or make their escape out the kitchen door. 

“Grace! You’re just the person I wanted to see,” Mary Ellen gushed, invading Grace’s personal space, giving her the fake cheek kisses that instantly set off Alec’s ‘stranger danger’ radar, making him want to grab Q’s arm and flee for safety despite the attention it would draw. Q was still mauling his piece of Chocolate Stout cake, and it would cause more of a scene to detach him from it than to pray that this ‘Mary Ellen’ would be but a brief moment of chaos. 

Alec’s prayers apparently didn’t even make it halfway to the ceiling.

“Mary Ellen.” Grace greeted politely -- _No_ , Alec thought. _Tolerantly_ \-- accepting Mary Ellen’s affections with a stiffening of her frame so slight only a Double-O was likely to pick up on it. “What brings you in today?”

“Well, not the Strawberry Shortcake, that’s for sure,” Mary Ellen tittered with a gentle pat on Grace’s arm. 

Now it was Alec’s turn to stiffen. Making light of what could be a fatal allergy? One that Q shared?! Alec started to rise, but Grace’s subtle shake of her head had Alec shifting in his seat, instead.

Mary Ellen was here to ‘ask’ Grace if she would put a poster in her front window and on the ‘Happenings Bulletin Board’ about the upcoming parish “Winter Festival & Dance” Fundraiser. 

“Of course.” Grace’s smile was more genuine but still not what Alec would call warm. She was in favour of the event if not the coordinator. “I’m sure you have fliers, too. I’ll set some on the counter for the walk-in customers and put them in with any of the take-out pastry orders.”

“You’re an absolute treasure,” Mary Ellen oozed. That done, she immediately set her sights on Alec and Q. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Mary Ellen Wilson,” Grace began the introductions. “This is Alec Kildale and his husband Ellery.”

“Kildale … Kildale …” It was clear Mrs. Wilson was attempting to place the name. It showed on her face when she got it. “Oh! You’re the one who bought the old Blackmon place a few years ago. Wondered if we’d ever see you, it stayed vacant for so long.” 

She nattered on for several minutes about how she knew about him, something about her husband working in the same building as the estate agent Alec used to purchase the cabin. No response seemed to be expected or required of Alec as she did so. He was just starting to wonder if it would annoy Grace if he used the thin, wire garrotte coiled in his belt buckle when Mary Ellen finally turned her attention on Q.

“It’s so nice to have new residents in the area. We seldom get people new to the community who aren’t tourists.” Mary Ellen babbled as she started pulling flyers and posters out of her huge handbag, shoving them at Grace. “What is it that you both do? Oh wait, my husband said something about... exporting, importing, trade... oh, it really doesn’t matter. Are you telecommuting to work now that you’re here?” 

Again, she didn’t wait for an answer but charged on ahead. “So Ellery, is it? You’re husbands? How long have you been married? We don’t get many...” Q just stared at Mary Ellen with a fork full of chocolate cake halfway to his mouth. Non-blinking. Not speaking. Both Grace and Alec could see the beginnings of a mental meltdown beginning to rise in Q’s eyes 

“Mary Ellen.” Grace lightly tapped her on the shoulder. “Mary Ellen, Ellery doesn’t speak.”

Her “Oh... I...” slipped out, but she made a quick recovery to hide her embarrassment for Mary Ellen Wilson never did _anything_ to be embarrassed about. “Well, then you two _must_ come to the Winter Festival!” She looked from Alec to Grace and back again to Q. “A fun night with all the locals is just what he needs to get over that shyness.” And like that, she was off again, gesticulating expansively, her babble covering the fundraiser, what the money was going to be used for, the people likely to be in attendance, an explanation of the silent auction. Alec wondered if she had been fitted by Q-Branch with one of their special underwater breathing devices because he was certain he never saw her take a breath in between words. 

“Good fun. Dancing. The perfect opportunity to meet your neighbors. It’s two weeks away. You can be my special guests. Tickets on me.” She pulled out another handful of flyers from her bag and passed them to Grace. 

Sam, behind Mary Ellen’s back at the counter, waved Alec off like he was a fighter plane coming in for a landing and mouthed, “Don’t do it!”

“Oh, and it’s a potluck, so come up with something _delicious_ for everyone to enjoy! See you then!” And with that, Winter Storm Mary Ellen Wilson whooshed through Raven’s Roast and out the door. 

“No!” Alec pointed a finger at Grace when she looked back at him after Mary Ellen had gone. He had become uncomfortably familiar with that guileful smile. “That is so _not_ going to happen. It’s a shite idea and you know it. Only five minutes in that woman’s presence, and El was a bite of cake away from crawling up the back of my jumper.” Alec stood. It was time to go. The therapy session could wait. “No, Grace. Just …” He yanked Q’s anorak off the hook on the wall, “... no!”

Rather than stand toe-to-toe with him -- she’d learned the futility of doing that when Alec’s ‘Stubborn Russian’ came out to play -- Grace sank smoothly into the chair next to Q who had licked the last of the icing from his fork and now sipped his tea. 

“Admittedly, Mary Ellen’s an idiot but a well-meaning one. I’ve never seen her do anything out of malice or spite, and I’ve known her for nearly sixty years. While I don’t agree that the Festival will pull Ellery out of his shell, I do think there’s some benefit to be had by attending”

“No.” It was _006_ who replied.

Grace did not cower.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked instead.

“Don’t try to get inside my head!” Alec snapped. “You’re not _my_ shrink.”

“That’s a matter of some debate,” but she lightly tapped the back of Q’s hand. It was a touch he had accepted from the beginning, and he always responded by giving her his attention. For a little while, at least. “Ellery, it’s my professional opinion that you should attend the Festival. Even if it’s only for an hour or two. You’ve been isolated for too long, and I don’t mean that as a criticism of Alec in any way,” she hastened to add when she saw Q’s hand clench then twitch in the direction of the hem of Alec’s jacket. 

“You were isolated long before you came here. Isolated by being Quartermaster, by your perception of your role, your task to dismantle Nine Eyes, your personal mission to protect your agents, and bring them home … taking no time for yourself. You’ve learned to let me in since you’ve been here. Sam and the girls, too, but we’re comfortable for you now. It’s important for your recovery that you continue to find that comfort level, but with larger groups of people.”

Q’s focus grew distant again. That was all she was going to get from him for the time, but Grace knew Ellery had heard her and was hopefully processing her words. He had to be a willing participant. She wouldn’t force him to go. 

She turned her attention to Alec who, while still tense, no longer seemed ready to throw Q over his shoulder and storm out of the coffee shop. “Mary Ellen makes it sound like the whole town will turn out, but in the six years I’ve been back, the most I’ve seen is -- at best -- 70 people, and the majority of them were under the age of five.”

Alec rubbed his eyes. He knew she was right. They would need to eventually cross this bridge. Grace seemed to think he was ready, but Alec wasn’t completely convinced. 

It would be different if Q had a way to communicate with them if the situation grew to become too much for him. And in all honesty, Alec was afraid to take this next step. What if it backfired and Q regressed? There was no way he could report that to Mallory. 

“Ellery?” Alec placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Q leaned into his touch laying his cheek on the top of Alec’s hand. 

Alec sighed deeply, pointing a finger at Grace. “The first sign... the absolutely _first_ fucking sign he panics or is stressed, we are leaving!”

Sam rolled his eyes. 

“You! Stop it!” Grace glared at him. “I’ll take away your vacation days.”

“You can’t afford to! Just saying, sounds like a fiasco to me.”

“See! Sam agrees with me...” Alec and Grace started to argue again. They were both so engrossed in trying to convince each other who was right that when Sam came over to get a better view of the show, not one of them noticed when Q slipped away from the table. 

An unsupervised Quartermaster, in any state, was a bad thing. And an unguarded espresso machine... well, that was something just begging for attention.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



	17. Alec's Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sam. Turn the sign ‘round. I’d say we’re effectively closed for the rest of the day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Has everyone recovered from meeting Mary Ellen? We're not sure Alec has.
> 
> We want to let you know about a change in our posting schedule. Based on feedback, we will now be updating this story three times a week on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. You might still see an occasional bonus chapter, though. :)
> 
> Now to today's update ... see, there's this espresso machine ...

By the end of the “Mary Ellen” visit to Raven’s Roast, Alec was convinced that had M -- the _old_ M -- ever met Grace Mikelson, she’d have hired her on the spot. As an agent, not a shrink, for there seemed nothing under the sun that could shake Grace’s calm, measured, cool-under-pressure fortitude. 

Q amply drove that point home.

“He breaks it, you buy it, Alec,” is all Grace said when she and Alec paused in their argument long enough to seek out where Q had gone, only to find him among the disassembled parts of the heart of Grace’s livelihood -- the espresso machine. 

Alec looked sideways at Sam -- who had been an appreciative audience to the older pair’s bickering, thereby leaving the machine unguarded -- for answers.

“It’s a $15,000 rig,” Sam said weakly. He gripped the back of the chair next to him to keep his balance. The young man looked faint.

Alec didn’t feel much better. 

“Fifteen thou --” 

He scrubbed at his face and ran his hands into his hair, gripping it tightly. It wasn’t about the money. He had more than enough in secret accounts to cover it, but … 

He gestured lamely at the sight.

“Sam. Turn the sign ‘round. I’d say we’re effectively closed for the rest of the day.” Grace sat in her chair, legs crossed with one elbow propped on the tabletop, and calmly waited for Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos to determine the fate of her business.

Thank Christ it hadn’t been like the blender.

It had taken three hours, but when the last bolt on the rig was tightened -- Alec still wasn’t sure how Q managed to nick the Leatherman tool out of the front pocket of his jeans -- Grace pulled two shots from the machine and declared, “Well, I can cancel that call to the repair service. Portafilter doesn’t stick anymore and the steam wand works better than it has this last month.”

Grace quickly built the rest of the cappuccino in a takeaway cup and passed it to Q. “Thank you, Ellery. It works beautifully.”

“You two can breathe now,” she said to Alec and Sam who had watched Q’s progress with matching looks of silent horror that gradually morphed to cautious optimism. “Sam, finish locking up, and I’ll see you in the morning. Alec, the cappuccino’s for you. Take Ellery home. He looks tired. I’ll be out at the cabin tomorrow around three. I’m going home to take advantage of an early night before getting up to do my baking.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, and shortly thereafter, the men heard the back door open and shut as Grace made her way home.

“Does anything ever phase her?” Alec asked, dumbfounded.

“Snakes. She’s absolutely terrified of snakes,” Sam said with a half-smile. “Found one in her vegetable garden last summer. They heard her screams down at the fire station.”

“That’s two streets over.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, she _really_ hates snakes.”

As filled with uncertainties as that afternoon had been -- at least for Alec -- the next two weeks leading up to the Festival came with their own unique set of pressures and worries so frighteningly domestic Alec felt woefully unprepared to effectively address them. To his amazement, there were some situations that being a Double-O just didn’t prepare him for, and choosing a dish for a pot-luck social was apparently one of them.

“What are you watching now, El,” Alec quizzed Q the day after the Espresso Machine Incident. Q was curled up in “his spot” on the sofa in front of the television but leaned into Alec’s hair ruffling. Alec handed him a plate with a sandwich and crisps before flopping down next to him. Q took the plate with no eye contact, no acknowledgment other than a hand slightly reaching out for the late morning snack he knew was forthcoming. 

“How do you find these shows?” Alec scoffed as the Pioneer Woman rambled on about making chocolate fudge to take to her father-in-law, but he settled next to Q in comfortable silence, and in the next episode let Ree teach him about her family’s favourite casserole. 

“Did you know this episode was coming on, you little shite?! Is this your way of telling me you think this Festival fiasco is a good idea, too?” 

Q sat silently next to him slowly munching his sandwich. And yet, a foot slowly pushed over until it rested against Alec’s larger one. Alec turned his way, watching for any other signs. It was so difficult at times to read the small ways that Q seemed to reach outwards from the world he had retreated to in his head.

Alec nudged his sock-clad foot back against Q’s but returned his attention to the episode, leaving Q to his sandwich. By the end of the marathon three hours later, Alec was left with four dishes that _seemed_ reasonably non-threatening to take to the Festival. He’d look them up on “Ree’s” website before deciding which it would be. He had been trying to push his culinary skills and make a broader range of meals to get some meat on Q’s bones, but he was only cooking for two and felt he could still get by with cheese toasties and tomato soup a couple of times a week. Even dish up a bowl of cereal for dinner in a pinch. 

Cooking for a crowd was something else altogether. And given that Q had steered him toward _this_ show which featured hearty fare likely to be popular for a wintertime church/community gathering, Ellery felt the same.

Though the “Turkey and Biscuits Casserole with Lemon and Dill” looked interesting, Alec was put off by the name. He still struggled with the notion of biscuits being anything other than sweet and had looked at the dry, scone-like things she’d put atop the casserole with more than faint distaste.

Grace appeared at the house promptly at 3 pm as she said she would. Q was “watching” his plants at the time so she headed upstairs to the guest bedroom to see how the horticulture experience was progressing. Alec busied himself for the next hour or so whilst Grace and Q did whatever it was they did. Alec never was quite sure how Grace assessed where Q was and how he was progressing, but in her eyes, he was making some progress. Even if it was baby steps, she assured him. 

Their normal routine was that Grace would eventually wander to the kitchen and have coffee with Alec before heading back into town. They’d talk about the day. How Q was progressing. What she saw and what she thought would help in his treatment. 

However, today was different. As Alec slid a cup of coffee across the table to her, the first thing she said was, “I want to change his medication. I think it’s hindering his progress.”

“It’s what Psych prescribed for him.” Alec countered. 

“Well they’re idiots, and I don’t think they have Ellery’s best interest as their long term goal. Just in getting him back to work.” Grace paused to let that idea sink in with Alec for a moment, knowing how he would feel about it. 

“One of his medications I would get rid of completely. Start a different one. The other, the dosage needs doubling. He’s drowning in the world he’s lost in Alec. Struggling constantly to find his footing. We need to help him find that a little more. I think this would help, and if it doesn’t, we try something else. Finding the correct combination of medications can take time.“

“I don’t particularly care for the comparison because it’s not who he is, but his current combination of medications might be what has him functioning at the level of an autistic adolescent, and that _isn’t_ who is trapped inside that man,” Grace added. 

“Christ no, it’s not! I know it’s not. I’ve seen _him_ in there. I know you have, too.” Physically uncomfortable with the image Grace was painting, Alec jumped up from his seat and paced the line of the kitchen’s worktop island, gesticulating wildly toward the sofa where Q was curled up taking his customary afternoon nap.

“Grace … that man in there is .... yes, he has a genius-level IQ -- probably two of them -- but it’s … Ugh! How do I explain it, I barely get it myself, but … it’s not his brain that’s so important. It’s what he does with it. Who he _is_ with it. Look, before Ellery became Quartermaster, we -- the Double-Os -- we were expendable. A means to an end. When one of us died in the field, oh well. There were always more waiting in the wings to heed the call. Things changed with him. Our jobs didn’t get any safer but the tools _we_ used got better because of him. So did the vetting of the intel. And with handlers in our ears … with him in _my_ ear …” 

“You weren’t just a _thing_ anymore,” Grace said quietly. “A tool.”

Alec shook his head. “Handlers run missions for only two Double-Os, and I don’t know what their relationships are like, but with Q and me … Tanner told me when the new 007 was chosen after James left, Q assigned her to a different handler. Wouldn’t pick up a second agent. I resisted him at first. A decade of mostly extended, deep cover operations, I’d always worked alone. I was a complete arse to him in the beginning, made his job a thousand times more difficult than it needed to be, but he never let me get away with it. Held his ground. It took me nearly getting shot in the head in Tripoli to understand Q wasn’t trying to hinder me or make my choices in the field for me. He was in my ear to help me make better- _informed_ choices. After that …”

“Things changed between you.”

Alec nodded this time. He couldn’t even begin to articulate it. Wouldn’t even try. All he knew was the knot of concern that had formed in his stomach back in London had loosened only to become a large hole of worry filled with an increasing sense of loss. 

“Grace?” He studied the countertop, tracing the veins in the marble with his fingertips.

“Yes, Alec?”

“What …” He looked up at her but even the thought of what he wanted to ask hurt so much he could barely form the question. He had to force the words. “What if Q never comes back?”

He didn’t say ‘to me’. Couldn’t. He’d have to look at things too closely then. 

Grace heard it anyway. Of course, she did. But she didn’t address it directly when she answered. 

“It’s too early to worry about that, I think. We’ll need a few weeks to see how he responds to the change in medication and go from there.”

But if not? Alec’s eyes asked. 

Hers did not reply. 


	18. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Could be interesting. Q’s never been an overly social creature, but he always enjoyed a good party provided he knew at least some of the people there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many of you have been leaving comments about how real our OCs feel. That they're not just characters but people. Thank you so much for those words. They're incredible!

“Osler is after your head. Especially once he lost complete access to Q’s medical file,” Moneypenny chuckled, the sound of her well-manicured nails clicking on her laptop echoed through the phone. “It’s driving him crazy he’s had no word on your location or Q’s progress.” 

“Well, Osler can just fuck off.” Alec stood out on the deck, cuppa in hand, where he could still see Q on the sofa. Breakfast balanced on the arm of the sofa, he was totally lost in watching his morning telly. First Pee Wee Herman, now it was Rocky and Bullwinkle.

“It’s even more entertaining that Mallory just ignores his whinging.”

Alec couldn’t care less that Osler was inconvenienced and told Eve as much. “Q’s getting good treatment. Better than that idiot could give him. Actually starting to put a little weight back on.” He went back inside; Q had wandered away from his shows. Alec found him staring out the kitchen window at the snow. 

Alec guided him towards a chair at the table and snagged his plate from the sofa. “Finish your breakfast, you little shite, and then we can go outside,” he said, ignoring Moneypenny on the phone for a moment. 

“Better?” A hopeful Moneypenny asked when he returned. 

“I think so. Making progress. It’s slow but the signs are there.” He wondered if others would see the progress he saw in Q. 

Alec handed Q another fork from a drawer. His had gone missing. Probably in the sofa. The amount of silverware he’d pulled out from the cushions the other day was staggering. Little wonder they had nothing to eat with. “Grace thinks he’s ready for more socialisation. Now sure how this is going to play out, but I guess we are going to give it a try. Some local parish function. A town winter festival thing.” 

Moneypenny hummed thoughtfully on the other end of the line. “Could be interesting. Q’s never been an overly social creature, but he always enjoyed a good party provided he knew at least some of the people there.”

“He will,” Alec assured her. He slid another rasher of bacon onto Q’s plate and watched Ellery fall on it like a starving man, cutting the pieces up into bits with the edge of his fork to mix in with his snotty eggs he then pushed onto pieces of buttered toast to scarf down. Like so many things, Alec discovered how Ellery liked his eggs via a cooking show when Q paused Rachel Ray in the middle of cooking hers sunny side up. The whites had only just set, the yolks a bright yellow. 

“Have you not heard of salmonella?!” Alec had demanded. Q’s reply was to get up from the sofa and go upstairs to be with his herbs, leaving the sunny siders huge and motionless on the flat screen. 

It had been ‘snotty’ eggs ever since. 

“Grace and I will be there,” he continued, trying not to cringe at the wiggly mass of yolk oozing on Q’s plate. “The girls from the shop, Mele and Lucy, are skipping some concert down at one of the resorts to be there for us -- somehow Q’s managed to wrap them around his finger without saying a word -- and though he doesn’t know it yet, I’m dragging Sam along. If I’m doing this, so is he.” 

Alec rather liked Sam. He had a sober playfulness about him that reminded Alec of James when they were still midshipmen, but his blunt, direct manner of speaking was Eve all over again. And with Q still silent, Sam was literally the only man Alec ever got an answer from about anything. With Grace, and the girls, and occasionally Eve, Alec’s life felt extremely estrogen heavy at times.

“He’s going to need something to wear,” Moneypenny said, illustrating his mental point perfectly. Granted, once he’d become a Double-O, James had developed a keen eye for bespoke clothing that still baffled. Alec knew when and how to dress well but on the whole, couldn’t be arsed. Function and comfort always came first. He shopped for clothing only when necessary: jeans, jumpers, t-shirts, hoodies, and the occasional button-down. The tone in Eve’s voice left Alec with a sinking feeling things were about to change.

“Alec?” Eve prompted. Apparently he had taken too long avoiding his reply.

“Yes?”

“What’s the dress?”

He searched his memory for what Grace had told him. “Ummm … something called ‘Colorado Casual’?” 

“No idea what they mean by that, but it doesn’t sound  _ too _ fancy.” Eve’s tone was thoughtful but pointed. “You’re still going to need to get something. For each of you. I saw what you packed for him, remember, and a couple of pairs of ratty jeans, track pants, and jumpers will not cut it. It’s still a fundraiser.”

Ultimately, he’d had no choice but to agree with Eve’s assessment of Q’s wardrobe. It was fine for staying at home, and some of El’s ‘nicer’ pieces got them through shopping in town and visiting Raven’s Roast, but there was nothing suitable for an evening out, no matter how casual. 

He said as much to Grace the next day at the shop.

“I don’t want to shop for him online and then not have it fit, though. Think I can find him something at the Walmart in Jasper,” he made the mistake of adding. The reaction from the two younger women behind the counter was apoplectic.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Mele demanded. The slice of cake she’d had balanced on the server dropped to the plate with an unceremonious plop. She passed it off to her customer with a quick smile and turned to Lucy, horrified. 

“ _Walmart_?!” Lucy jammed the cold drink straws she had been refilling into their container. The look on her face hovered somewhere between amazed and disgusted.

Grace merely groaned and rubbed at her temple as if in physical pain at the notion, stepping out of the way as her two young employees rounded the counter as one, clearly intent upon making Alec see the error of his ways.

“Why not just take him down to the Army Supply Store?” Mele said. She stood toe to toe with Alec, hands on her hips, staring him down though she was all of five foot nothing. 

“Or how ‘bout the consignment shop on Third?” Lucy snarked from across the shop where she stood next to Q who, surprisingly, stood at her gentle urging. “Look at this man, Alec Kildale.” She stepped back and gestured from the top of Q’s curls to his feet and back again. “Your husband is  _ gorgeous _ . It’s enough of a travesty he’s wearing flannel half the time. It’s fine for you, I suppose. You already have the rugged, dangerous man of mystery thing going on, but flannel … on Ellery?! He might as well be wearing a burlap sack. Mele and I have held our tongues long enough about what you have him wearing.”

“You are  _ not _ dressing him in Walmart.” Mele insisted, poking Alec in the chest. “He’s not a teenage boy.”

He looked to Grace for help. There was none forthcoming.

Picking up on their scrutiny of him, Q turned slowly in a circle next to the table as if putting on a fashion show. Just like with the cart ghost and the bloody cooking programmes, Ellery was telling Alec what he wanted. 

“Fine, you little shite. You want a fancy new kit, we’ll get you one,” he grumbled, rubbing at his chest where Mele had poked him. Bloody sharp fingertips that one had. “Where do I take him, then?”

Mele and Lucy assessed Q once more, and reaching some sort of silent consensus, nodded and turned to Alec again.

“Calibre,” they said.

  
  



	19. Something to Wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You must be Alec and Ellery,” a gentle voice said behind them. Alec spun around to face the threat, putting himself directly between El and the newcomer.   
> “I’m Veronica,” the woman said with a smile. Only a few years older than Alec, she was tall and willowy with light brown skin and short, dark hair. “Welcome to Calibre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will the cart ghost make an appearance at Calibre? Hmmmmmmm ...

Two days after the fashion intervention at Raven’s Roast, Alec found himself in a car park outside a small row of shops in Silver Creek, one of the resort towns 30 miles south of Devil’s Gulch, trying to coax Q out of the Explorer to go shopping for ‘decent, presentable attire.’ 

Pleased he had remembered to check sizes in Ellery’s clothing before they had left the cabin, Alec decided they might as well each get a few things whilst they were out. Jeans. Shirts. Jumpers. Socks. Pants. Alec had grabbed the bare minimum for Q when he absconded with him, and it was clear his flannel didn’t meet the approval of the local, teenage clothing police. 

Little did he know that clothes shopping would be just as big an adventure as grocery shopping. 

Alec wandered through the store, El clutching the back of his coat, ignoring the glances of the other shoppers at the odd pair they made. Alec took a moment to peruse some jewel-tone button-downs folded neatly on their shelves, but it was more than enough time to give the cart ghost an opportunity to strike. 

“Seriously Ellery?! _This_ is what you want? I don’t think…” 

Eyes cast somewhere just beyond Alec’s left shoulder, El’s hands clutched tightly to the black high top trainers and black/white plaid trousers. “Not sure the girls would approve,” Alec sighed, but a slight twitch of Q’s fingers told Alec that these items would be in their pile of purchase for the day. Ellery then pointedly turned his back to Alec, items still clutched in his hands. 

“Oh, I am so telling Grace what a little shite you are when shopping,” Alec chided but relented, finding himself unable to say no. He stepped closer to Q, leaning over his shoulder to speak quietly in his ear. “We’ll need to find something to match then, if you want them.” 

“You must be Alec and Ellery,” a gentle voice said behind them. Alec spun around to face the threat, putting himself directly between El and the newcomer. 

“I’m Veronica,” the woman said with a smile. Only a few years older than Alec, she was tall and willowy with light brown skin and short, dark hair. “Welcome to Calibre. Mele called to tell me two gorgeous men would be coming in today, and I was to help in any way possible.”

“That doesn’t sound like Mele.” Alec liked the annoying chit but subtlety was not her strong suit.

Veronica laughed. “The ‘gorgeous men’ is a direct quote and quite accurate, but the rest of it … what she really said is that I am to sort out the walking ‘fashion disaster,’ but unlike my niece, I have to be a bit more tactful with my words if I want to stay in business.”

At the news that he was speaking with Mele’s aunt, Alec relaxed a tad. “Alec Kildale. My husband, Ellery Kildale.” 

“I see you’ve found a pair of trousers you like, Ellery.” 

Though Q did not meet her eyes, neither did he cling to the back of Alec’s jacket. Clearly Veronica had been studied and found acceptable. 

“I should tell you El doesn’t speak.” This time it was Alec who grabbed hold of Q’s coat, ready to pull him back depending on her response.

“Yes, I know, but one hardly needs words to shop. There are other ways to communicate preferences.” She gestured at the side of the store containing the trendier clothes Q seemed to like. “Mele told me about the fundraiser. Those trousers will be perfect. They suit you. Unfortunately, they’re not running true to size, much to my disappointment, so you’ll want to try them on. I’m able to do alterations if it’s necessary. Then there’s the matter of what to wear with them. If you gentlemen will come with me, I promise to have you both in appropriate party togs with a minimum of fuss.”

Thirty minutes later, Alec and Q stood at the shop counter which was covered with jeans, jumpers, and various other articles of clothing. Some that appealed to Alec but others were definitely Ellery’s choice of wear. 

Q stood a few feet away at a nearby display, fingers gently caressing the most obnoxious purple and lime jumper Alec had ever seen. Not really looking at it but still fondling it. Alec quickly picked up on the clues that meant Q liked it, wanted it, and knew it would mysteriously make its way to the pile of clothing when Alec wasn’t looking. 

“You want that one El? Bring it here.” Alec shook his head, bewildered at the entire adventure and not sure which had been more trying, grocery shopping or this. Alec turned for a second, seeing Veronica heading their way with another pair of trousers, and when he looked back, sure enough, the purple jumper had made its way to the counter. 

“Here,” Veronica held out a second pair of the same black and white trousers Q had insisted he was going to own. The pair he had not released to prove his point. “One size smaller than the one in your hand. I think it will fit better, but try them both on to be sure. The dressing room is over there to the left.” She waved a hand towards the far side of the store. 

“I... I don’t... Ellery...” Alec looked from Veronica to Q.”

“Well... off you go.” Veronica handed the trousers on their hanger to Alec. “Can’t have him in trousers that don’t fit properly.” So Alec headed off towards the dressing room with Ellery padding along behind him. 

Standing in front of a dressing room that was barely big enough for _one_ man to cram into, Alec tried to coax El inside hoping he would/could try them on by himself but soon realised that was so _not_ going to happen. He herded Q inside with a sigh and joined him. 

“Coat off. Trousers off, El. Need to try these on.” But Ellery, who had been surprisingly engaged all this while, was gone again. Something in his unique world had captured his full attention. Not the trousers. Or even Alec. Ellery was completely oblivious to everything around him for the moment.

“Fuck…” Alec sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

The coat came off easily enough, and Alec hung it on one of the clothing pegs before turning Q around to face him so he could tackle the zip on his jeans, but the moment he touched the denim of the waistband, Alec pulled back his hands as if the fabric was an adder ready to strike. 

Not three hours ago, he’d been the one to help Ellery get _into_ the jeans. Would be the one later tonight to help him get _out_ of the jeans. For some reason neither Alec nor Grace could explain, Q seemed to struggle with zips and trouser buttons, so Alec did what was necessary, but it was one thing to help Ellery dress in their large bedroom where Alec could lay things out for him and Q could half-arse help. 

But here. In public. In this postage-stamp-sized dressing room where they were practically pressed together with no room to move and little cooperation from Ellery ...

Christ!

Alec very pointedly did not bang his head against the long mirror. Instead, he knelt to help El from the trainers he’d slipped on before they’d left the cabin. Should’ve been wearing his winter boots, but one had gone missing from its place next to the front door. The little shite had probably hidden it deliberately just to complicate things. Q lifted first one foot then the other when Alec indicated, and soon the shoes were sat side by side beneath the small stool in the dressing room.

That done, Alec pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and took a ragged breath. He was a Double-O. He could do this. He had done this before. He’d undressed countless marks in his time. It didn't mean anything.

And there was the crux of his problem. 

Q wasn’t a mark.

And he meant … something …

Fuck this. Just buy both pairs of trousers. El could try them on in the privacy of the cabin. He’d find some way to explain it to Veronica. 

Yes. That’s what they’d do. That’s it, exactly!

Then something brushed his cheek.

Alec’s eyes snapped open to see Ellery looking down at him. The gaze wasn’t steady. Alec could see the green flicker between focused and distant behind the specs. The oddest damn thing. But Q’s cool fingertips skated across the plane of Alec’s cheek in a way that was as concentrated and focussed as his vision was not. 

Between the erratic stare and the grounding touch, the anxiety that had been building to overwhelming within Alec evaporated.

“You’re right, of course,” Alec said with a nod. He twined his fingers with Q’s and held on like Ellery always did to the tail of his jumpers. “It’s the same. Exactly the same as at home.”

He gave Q’s fingers a final squeeze and turned his own to the task at hand. 

“One of these days, you’re going to start talking again El, and I’m going to want to know why you can’t be arsed to dress yourself.” The zip and button opened as easily as they had closed earlier that morning and within moments Q was out of his jeans and stepping into the checked trousers. “Lord, you’ve got a pale arse and knobby knees. Have you ever even sat in a sunbeam? What am I talking about, you nap in them every day for all the good it does your complexion …”

It didn’t matter that Alec chattered like magpie through the fitting. Q certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone.

  
  



	20. Snowfall and Campfires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the Winter Festival finally arrived. Alec spent the morning in the kitchen preparing his dishes with Q sat at the counter across from him “supervising”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When we started putting this story together, neither one of us anticipated how much people would love the cart ghost. That you do is evidenced by your comments for the last chapter. We love it! Thank you so much!
> 
> Here's a bonus chapter to help get us to the much anticipated Winter Festival. ::hears Alec groan in the background::

Q kept finding episodes of the Pioneer Woman making the right kind of potluck dishes for the festival and leaving them on the television for Alec to find... repeatedly. Which, once again, puzzled him as to what was truly going on in that head of dark curls. Alec fussed for days about what dishes he was going to cook to share at the event. Prepping for it like he would a mission, he considered all the details and complexities of cooking techniques, kitchen tools he would need to employ, and general popularity of ingredients on American palates -- people gave no quarter in their comments on the success or failure of recipes on the food blogs he visited. He finally narrowed his options by doing taste tests on Q whose appetite seemed unstated the last few weeks and even forced Grace and her staff into being his guinea pigs. 

The day of the Winter Festival finally arrived. Alec spent the morning in the kitchen preparing his dishes with Q sat at the counter across from him “supervising”. Alec carried on his normal one-sided conversation, during which Q would occasionally wander away to watch the television or his plants upstairs only to return again a bit later to monitor Alec’s progress. Eventually, though, Alec glanced up from browning minced beef for Q’s Tater Tot Casserole to find Ellery with his head down on his arms, sound asleep on the kitchen counter. 

“Sofa, El. You’ll rest better. “ Alec gave him a gentle shake, only to receive a vacant stare from Sleeping Beauty. He quickly finished assembling the casserole and as he guided Q to the sofa, second thoughts about the wisdom of their outing ran through Alec’s head, but they were committed and would see it through. He just hoped tomorrow morning he wouldn’t regret having said yes.

The food would go into the oven an hour or so before they left, so Alec joined Q on the sofa with the plan to reach out via email to some of his overseas contacts who tended to get jittery when they didn’t hear from him in a while. It would keep him occupied whilst Ellery slept. He’d finished his latest book yesterday, didn’t want to get engrossed in another before the party. It didn’t go exactly to plan, however. Alec woke two hours later, iPad on the floor next to the sofa with an armful of sleeping, snoring Ellery tucked up under his chin. 

Alec tried not to think of how Ellery seemed to fit perfectly against him or how amazing he smelled -- like crisp snowfall and smokey campfires -- or how the weight of Q against his chest soothed him in ways Alec never thought he’d experience in this painful lifetime.

He tried, too, not to think of Grace’s warning the day before when she’d come for her session with Ellery.

Q had not been waiting for her as he usually was.

Unlike their first sessions when Grace would have to hunt down the Quartermaster, in the last few weeks, Ellery usually stopped whatever he was doing the moment he heard Grace’s Outback pull into the drive and waited for her by the front door. 

“He’s been a bit off all day,” Alex had explained. “Tired. Like you said he might be with the new meds. He’s napping up in our bed. I’ll go get him.” 

“ _ Our _ bed?!”

The incredulity in Grace’s tone stopped Alec short. 

Fuck.

Yeah. Let that slip. Bloody brilliant, Alec.

He turned on the stairs and faced Grace who at that moment looked far too much like Old M when she was deciding whether or not she was going to flay the hide off one of her agents. 

“Our bed?” she repeated.

“Yes?” He’d meant it as a ‘Deal With it Grace’ statement. It came out as anything but.

“Care to tell me how that came about?”

Alec rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not particularly.”

“Don’t be an ass. You swore you’d share anything which could have an impact on Ellery’s treatment and recovery. I’d say a change in sleeping arrangements qualifies.”

“But that’s  _ all _ it is.  _ Sleeping _ arrangements.”

She cocked her eyebrow and planted her feet solidly on the floorboards, and again Alec was reminded of Olivia Mansfield. It was a subtle digging in that meant she was there until wholly satisfied with the answers to her questions.

“Fine,” Alec sighed. He gestured for her to take a seat at the kitchen island. This could take a while.

An hour and two cups of coffee later, Alec had finished telling her about the night he found Q freezing to death outside, the subsequent nights when he’d had been too afraid to leave Ellery’s bedside lest he go wandering again, and Q’s ultimate refusal to sleep alone in his own bed once Alec  _ had  _ finally returned to his.

“No, I don’t think it’s hurting Ellery,” she said after a moment’s consideration of Alec’s greatest worry about the situation. “In spite of everything, he knows what he wants, even probably what he  _ needs _ . He’s advocating for himself. He just communicates those things to us differently. He wouldn’t be sharing your bed if he didn’t want to do so. I think we both know that.”

“So it’s not bad for him.” Alec sagged slightly with relief.

“For  _ him _ , no. I don’t want it to become bad for you, though.”

“For me? Why would it be bad for me?”

Grace didn’t even try to hide the roll of her eyes.

“Because you care, Alec …  _ very _ much. And because you asked me  _ that _ question the other day. The one I couldn’t answer. The one only you can.”

_ Couldn’t _ . Not wouldn’t. Alec knew exactly which of the hundreds of questions he’d asked over the last months she meant.

What happens if Q never comes back?

Shite.

_ Because you care, Alec … very much _ . It was as much a warning as any he’d received as a field agent. Perhaps more so, for Grace knew Alec was risking far more than just his body.

Alec shifted slightly beneath Ellery, careful not to wake him and was struck again by a thought that had been plaguing him for days. Was this his life now? He was a highly trained intelligence officer and assassin but had spent the bulk of his day worrying about whether or not his casseroles would turn out properly and what to do with Ellery’s herbs that were quickly growing out of their small pots. He should be using his K-BAR knife to coerce information out of an enemy operative not using it to slice into the incredibly obnoxious safety packaging for a gas-powered fire lighter because Ellery seemed to like to watch the dancing flames in the hearth.

Q snuffled in his sleep and curled in closer against Alec, one hand tucked between their chests, the other dangling off the edge of the sofa, and suddenly Alec knew why he wasn’t as worked up as he probably should be about the new domesticity of his life. 

So what  _ would  _ he do if Q never came back?

He had no bloody clue. But maybe it was better, the opportunity to find out than not have this at all. Alec breathed deeply of snowfall and campfires and wrapped himself around his sleeping Quartermaster.

When he woke again an hour later it was to the crinkling of a crisps package and the tell-tale scent of cheese dust.

“Hungry are we?” Alec’s voice was rough with sleep, but he took the single Cheeto Q offered him. Ate it. Watched as Ellery sucked down a small handful before offering yet another single Cheeto. He was sat on his heels, squeezed in between Alec and the back sofa cushions, and when Alec took the second Cheeto he noticed the side of El’s face was smeared with bright orange. 

He laughed, took note of the sun low on the horizon outside the windows, and rolled to his feet. “Come on, you. We have casseroles to bake and a party to dress for. You can’t go all coated in cheese dust, so into the shower with you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	21. A Very Bad Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Christ.” In a church or not, it was Alec’s favourite curse and more than fit the situation. And if the death grip Q had on his wrist was anything to go by, he wasn’t the only one using it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for The Winter Festival!

Snow falling around him, Alec stood in the parish car park trying to coax Q out of the car. It was turning into one of those days. Alec still couldn’t grasp why buckling and unbuckling a seat belt was such an issue. But, it was. 

Alec needed Q to help him carry the dishes inside, so he herded him ‘round to the boot of the car. Q was fascinated by the falling snow, though, and had no intention of paying attention to Alec. It took a light tap to his chin with a finger to get his attention, and while he didn’t look directly at him, Alec could see a shift in his focus that indicated El knew Alec was talking to him. 

“Here,” Alec wrapped Q’s hand around a carrier containing one of the dishes he’d pulled from the boot. “Just carry it in. Stay next to me, El. Not sure what we are supposed to do with them, but I’m sure someone will tell us.”

“Ready, Quartermaster? Mission mode.” Alec grabbed his casserole and locked up but stopped beside the Explorer for a moment. “Ummm, El... before we go in. Your choice of clothing ... Well, you look good. Not my choice, but for you...” he stopped, afraid he sounded overly affectionate. Why did this feel so awkward?

Q continued to stare off at the falling snow glittering in the street lights as if he didn’t hear anything at all, but an elbow slowly winged out and brushed against Alec’s. 

Alec smiled. 

Maybe this evening wouldn’t be a bloody fiasco after all. 

It was a thought he immediately amended the moment they stepped inside. Housed in an old warehouse a few blocks south of Raven’s Roast, the Devil’s Gulch Worship Center was a non-denominational, multi-faith facility serving the needs of the entire community, and from the looks of it, the  _ entire  _ community had turned out for the Festival.

This was  _ not _ the small gathering Grace had told them to expect.

The main room was teeming with people. Some circled the large tables to Alec’s right, inspecting the various items on offer for the silent auction and writing down their bids. At the back of the space, dozens of couples danced to the music played by the DJ on a dance floor complete with flashing, coloured lights and a mirrored disco ball hanging from the ceiling. Still others came and went through a door to Alec’s left where clearly more entertainments were on offer. But the vast majority were hovering around the three, long buffet tables that were practically groaning under the weight of the food or eating companionably together at round tables that took up the bulk of the space.

“Christ.” In a church or not, it was Alec’s favourite curse and more than fit the situation. And if the death grip Q had on his wrist was anything to go by, he wasn’t the only one using it.

Alec assessed the entire tableau: the swirling movement of the people, the chaotic noise of hundreds of conversations, the heavy beat of the music, the flashing lights …

Too many people. 

Q practically crawled up the back of Alec’s coat, he was pressed so close. Alec heard the casserole carrier in Ellery’s hand drop to the floor.

Too many doors. 

006 settled his hand on his weapon in its holster beneath his jacket; he could not adequately protect his asset in such an insecure environment.

Too many things could go wrong.

No. Done.

“C’mon, Ellery, we’re going home.”

“Oh, no you’re not! Grace appeared out of nowhere with Lucy just half a step behind. The teenager picked up the casserole carrier from the floor and wrapped an arm comfortingly around Q’s shoulders as she sometimes did when she sat next to Ellery to work on her homework during the late afternoon lull at Raven’s Roast.

“Primary at risk. Too many people. Uncontrollable room. Not defensible. Perimeter...” and Grace realised she was facing not Ruan Kildale nor even Alec Trevelyan but an Operations Officer of the SIS.

Grace changed tactics. Their usual snark and banter would only exacerbate the problem. She held her hands out, palms up, and used a calm, soothing tone. “Alec. It’s fine. We can handle this. Ellery can handle this.” 

“Let go, Lucy.” 006 turned to herd his Quartermaster back out the door to the safety of their vehicle and home, but at that moment a flock of little old ladies from the church descended on them as if they had built-in casserole-sensing radar. 

Fate could not have timed things worse.

They fussed and babbled and hugged. 

Q’s panic level elevated. 

006 shoved his primary behind his back placing himself between his directed mission and the threats.

Sixteen additional civilians between them and the ten metres to the main entryway. Secondary exit fifty metres distant; eight civilians. Grace still stood in front of him, Lucy to their right, the old casserole-scenting bints in a loose circle around them, but Alec tuned out their babble, pleas, and protests.

He twisted his wrist and reversed the hold Q had on him, curling his hand around Ellery’s forearm in a solid grip. “Securing my asset,” 006 said in a low voice for Q’s ears only, hoping on some level the Quartermaster in him would not only hear but remember. “Moving. Now.”

Alec surged through the immediate crowd. He made for the second exit keeping one hand on Q, the other on his weapon beneath his coat. Eyes scanned their surroundings. Barring additional threats, they should make the exit in eight … seven … si--

“Mr. Alec! Mr. Alec! You did it! You really brought Mr. Ellery!”

006 skidded to a halt, Q knocking him into behind so roughly that he had to stutter step to the right or risk crushing the five-year-old boy who had slipped in beneath his line of sight, jumping up and down with unbridled excitement.

“Salim?” 006 immediately released his grip on his Sig; Alec kept his hand on El. 

“You came, Mr. Ellery!” The boy, who didn’t even reach Alec’s waist, had wrapped himself around Q’s leg, his dark-head resting against the side of El’s hip.

A woman in a sparkling hijab came rushing from the direction of the buffet tables. “I am so sorry, Mr. Kildale! The moment he saw the two of you … he was off. Couldn’t grab him quickly enough.” 

Alec shook his head, pushing back the agent still further. “It’s … fine, Laiha.” He turned, ready to detach the limpet who had latched onto Q, but…

Ellery’s hand dropped to rest on the top of Salim’s slight shoulder, and though he did not make eye contact with the boy, he seemed to be listening to his excited chatter, nonetheless. The panicked look, the tension in his frame had eased, replaced with an increasingly peaceful air that both surprised and calmed Alec in return. 

Grace stepped forward slowly, patiently, realizing there was more going on here than just an outward awkward moment. “Alec… it's fine. Everyone is just a little overly excited about the Festival, and newcomers always draw attention. 

“Grace…” her name came out more as a warning than an acknowledgment. Alec took a deep breath, instinctually still assessing threats and wanting to move to the second exit he deemed accessible in the shortest amount of time. 

“Let’s talk about this. You and me,” she continued, voice calm and even, “Why don’t we let Lucy and Laiha take Ellery over to get something to eat.”

“No!” Primary at risk. Too many people. Uncontrollable room. Not defensible… all immediately resurfaced in Alec’s head.

“Alec, we’ll stand right here or sit at that table over there where we can see Ellery the whole time. Lucy will bring him right back to you.”

“Ellery….” Alec reluctantly released his grip on Q’s arm and gently tapped one finger on his chin, until half unfocused eyes slowly rose to meet his. They didn’t really see him. “You be alright with Lucy for a moment?” Getting no immediate panicked response, Alec took that to be an affirmative. 

“Bring him right back. Understand.” He directed sternly at Lucy. “Not out of my sight.”

An eye roll was followed by a muttered “mother hen” as the trio wandered off. Lucy and Salim each babbled at El about all there was to do at the Winter Festival and which were the best dishes he just  _ had  _ to try.


	22. In Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That man who doesn’t speak, who barely makes eye contact, who is lost in some world where neither of us can really reach him,” Alec gestured in Q’s direction “is one of the most brilliant minds in espionage right now. And, one of the most dangerous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We continue to be so thrilled by people's responses to this story of ours. Many of you have said that this is the story that you didn't know you needed until you started reading it. Wow! What a compliment. Thank you!
> 
> The Winter Festival continues ...

Grace signalled to the bartender and guided Alec to a nearby table far enough away from the majority of the crowd to offer them privacy but that still gave him a clear line of sight to Ellery at the buffet tables. Lucy had shown him where to put their casseroles and was helping him fill a plate with food.

“Nevermore than 60 people at the Festival, Grace?” Alec growled, gesturing sharply at the crowd that filled the warehouse. At least 400 people milled about the space.

“I know. I know. I’m _sorry_.” She sat down with a resigned sigh and pulled her chair up close to his. “I wasn’t expecting this. Neither was Mary Ellen, for that matter. Her marketing isn’t that good. The big concert down at the resort was cancelled. Lead singer fell ill or some such, so everyone came here. Oh, thank you, Joshua. I’ll settle up with you later,” she said to the man who sat four clear plastic cups on the table in front of them. 

“Sam already took care of it. Both rounds. Said Kildale here looked like he needed it. Can’t say I disagree with him,” Joshua said with a smile before disappearing back to his bar.

Alec raised an eyebrow. “A cash bar at a church fundraiser?” 

“What can I say? We’re a progressive group. Drink your drink.” Grace nodded at the cup closest to Alec’s hand.

Alec did not reach for it. His eyes were still on Q who seemed to be dithering over the salad options. 

“He’s fine, Alec. He’s safe with Lucy, and Laiha will make sure Salim doesn’t get too out of control. You don’t need to be on protection duty around us.”

“I’m _always_ on protection duty with him!” Alec snapped. “You still don’t get that, do you? I don’t think you truly understand what and who Ellery is, Grace. You just see a broken young man in need of help. Innocent. Someone you can possibly bring back from the brink.” Alec once again checked to see where Q was and if Lucy was still at his side. 

“That man who doesn’t speak, who barely makes eye contact, who is lost in some world where neither of us can really reach him,” Alec gestured in Q’s direction “is one of the most brilliant minds in espionage right now. And, one of the most dangerous. That’s all Six cares about. Not _him_ , just what he’s capable of doing for _them_ .” Alec scrubbed a hand over his face. Frustrated. Agitated. “That... _that_ is why I am always on protection duty! Not only can Six not know where we are, _no one_ can know where we are.”

“But Alec, it’s just us here. No one is going to hurt Ellery.” Grace tried to reason with him. 

“No, Grace! I know they’re trying to find him. Six is a danger to Ellery, yes, but the others... they can potentially make Ellery a danger to everyone else.”

“But Alec, Ellery... _really_?” And her lack of understanding stirred Alec’s ire even more. To the point he was about ready to grab Q again and drag him out to the car. 

“Grace, in his current state ... we don’t know _how_ much of his own mind he is when it comes to what he will and won’t choose to do and others could easily manipulate him. There are things you don’t know about Ellery and what he can do. And he is _very_ good at what he does. No one else comes close. It makes him a threat if he falls into the wrong hands. That’s why Six wants him improved, contained, or dead.” 

Alec started to push his chair back. “None of those are an option.” 

“Alec, please sit.” Grace tried to calm him, hoping to diffuse the situation. “Tomorrow, at the house, you can tell me more about this. When we can talk, just you and I.” 

“No.” Alec shook his head. “This was a bad idea from the start. Perfect timing, Lucy.”

The girl in question pulled out a chair for Q who was prevented from doing so himself by the three plates of food he was balancing in his hands. He carefully, precisely, sat them down on the table before taking the seat and pulling up closer to his meal. Lucy drew two packets of serviette-wrapped silverware from the breast pocket of her purple dungarees and placed them next to his left hand. 

“I’ll go get you something to drink, El,” Lucy said. “The tea’s going to be that awful premade bulk stuff. Lukewarm, at best, so I’ll get you some lemonade. Mr. Jersey made it like he does for each of the Festivals. You’ll love it. Perfect blend of sweet and tart.”

Alec put out a hand to spare Lucy the errand. “Don’t bother. We’re leaving.”

“Good luck with that.” The girl snorted, ignoring the gesture and nodding back at Q. “Don’t worry. I’ll get some of the lemony-goodness for you, too, Mother Hen.”

Alec looked back at Q who in the short interim had fully tucked into his meal. He had several scoops of the Tater Tot Casserole the ‘Recipe Ghost’ -- sister spectre to the ‘Cart Ghost’ -- insisted Alec make for the Festival along with samples of dozens of other dishes heaped on the plates in front of him.

“Ellery, we’re going home,” Alec said, leaning in so Q could hear him.

Q continued to eat, moving onto a bite of what looked to be a creamy cucumber and tomato salad with thin slices of red onion in it. “El, you’re not comfortable here,” Alec tried again. “Getting you someplace safe.” Let’s get you home.” 

Q speared another bit of creamy cucumber, and without looking at Alec held the fork out to him, stabbing at the air until Alec took the fork and ate the offering.

“Christ that’s good,” he said around the mouthful. Q had already picked up the second fork and started eating again.

“Problem, Alec?” Grace asked, hiding her smile behind the lip of the cup of whisky Joshua had brought her.

“Oh, bugger off. I still don’t like this.” Something nudged up against the side of his hand. He looked down to see Q had pushed over one of his plates of food, fingers brushing against Alec’s purposefully before skimming along the rim of the plate and returning to hold the edge of his own.

Q had made his opinion known.

“Fine, you little shite.” The food looked fabulous -- far better than some of the things he’d been making them -- and smelled heavenly. “We’ll stay … for now.”

Q and Alec ate in silence as the crowd around them moved and mingled. When their plates were empty, Q stood from his chair and waited. 

“El?” Alec questioned, beginning to stand up in answer to his unspoken, unknown need, but Grace put a hand out, stopping him. 

“Lucy.” Grace laughed at the obvious non-verbal cue Q was giving them. “Ellery needs an escort back to the food tables for another round.”

“Maybe we should hit the dessert table while we’re there.” Lucy stood and took his hand. “You need to have some of Mrs. Jameson’s Peach Cobbler. Best get some now before it’s all gone.”

Of course, there was no response from Q other than the willingness to follow wherever Lucy led him. 

“You know, Alec looks like a gooseberry pie kinda guy,” Grace and Alec heard Lucy babble at Q as they walked away. “Sour and sweet at the same time... heavy on the sour.”

“She has you pegged,” Grace smirked, turning to him, “but in a good way.” Alec huffed at her and watched the crowd at the table that Lucy and Q we’re heading towards. Intent upon finding any possible threat.

“Alec...” Grace began cautiously. “I don’t claim to understand your entire situation and the pressure you are under. But I want you to know, no matter who or what you were before, you and Ellery are accepted here. You’re both well-liked.”

“What’s your point Grace?” This was obviously shaping up to be one of those awkward conversations he and Grace seemed to have a lot... a _lot_. 

“If someone was looking for you and Ellery, wouldn’t it make more sense to not be known as the couple the townspeople never see: strange, odd, and out of the norm. The ones who isolate themselves out in a house far away from town. Instead, why not become a part of the community who no one has second thoughts about being around?” Grace paused and waited for what she was sure would be a snarling reply. 

It didn’t come.

“You’re suggesting we hide in plain sight.” Alec took a sip of his lemonade, and when he scanned the crowd this time, he didn’t see threats but rather the safety the people of Devil’s Gulch might provide them. Though they were the strangest of pairs, he and Q, Alec couldn’t discount Grace’s assessment that the townspeople, those they had met, had treated them well. Had been far more accepting of and patient with Ellery’s issues than they ever would have experienced in London.

“You’ve never asked me why I came back here when I retired from the Navy. I could’ve stayed in Norfolk. I’d made a life there, after all.” Grace’s voice filled his ears as Alec weighed the possibilities. “It’s because Devil’s Gulch protects its own. Always has. The people here have a way of recognizing the broken and damaged. Watching out for them until they heal. I couldn’t understand that when I was a teenager. Too many layers and consequences I wasn’t able to understand because I was a spoiled child. It was … suffocating. Left as soon as I could.”

“But you became a psychiatrist. Broken and damaged is what you do.”

Grace shrugged. “Some things you can’t escape, but when it reached a point where it was starting to break and damage _me_ , I came home. To heal.”

“We don’t have a home to go to.” He was surprised by the sadness he heard in his own voice. The resignation. It had been one thing when it was just him. Alec had never really felt the need for community beyond the few friends he had at Six: Eve, Tanner, James … even Q, though he’d been just a voice in his ear, then. Years of long-term, deep cover ops had a way of turning one into a loner. Not that Alec hadn’t already been one. But now, with Ellery in his care and in … other things, the life of the itinerant Operations Officer who didn’t even own his own flat in London just wouldn’t work anymore.

Not for him.

Not for them.

“Alec, look around you.” Grace gestured at the crowd. At Q poking at the dessert table, Lucy at his side, laughing at Mr. Mahaffey who was trying to convince Ellery to try a dish that looked like sickly green marshmallow fluff with chunks of _something_ in it. At Laiha and Salim who’d they come to know at Raven’s Roast when Laiha, a teacher at the primary school, stopped in each afternoon for an iced coffee for herself and a slice of banana bread -- _always_ banana bread -- for Salim. At Sam dancing, poorly, with his girlfriend Oona. Connie and Jacob and Ranvir, the Cart Ghost’s likely trio of co-conspirators at the Safeway. Doctor Webb from the Medical Centre. Abbey and Matthew from the fire station. Yes … even Mary Ellen.

“You _are_ home,” Grace said. 

Lucy finally returned with Q in tow, laden with desserts. He and Alec both inhaled the peach cobbler and the gooseberry pie, to which Alex declared ‘what the fuck is this?!’ but devoured it anyway. Now both Alec and Q started silently at the bowls of Mr. Mahaffey’s green marshmallow nastiness in front of them as if daring the other to be the first one to take a bite... For Queen and Country. 

It turned out it was pistachio flavoured and not some mysterious formula of goo that had been developed in Q-Branch to burn through metal. Had pineapple in it, too. One of Q’s favourite fruits, so not only did he inhale his but polished off what Alec was too full to finish. 

Grace continued to talk with Alec about what she felt were the benefits of them becoming more visible, a part of the community. Not only would it be good for them, but good for everyone all around. New blood and such. 

Mele finally appeared at their table to join the festivities. She and Lucy sat chatting across the table, occasionally glancing their way, and before Alec could protest, were dragging Q off with them to enjoy the festival’s activities.

Alec stood to stop them, but Grace intervened, hand on his elbow. “Alec. It’s the girls. They’ll watch over Ellery. Won’t let anything happen to him.” Alec reluctantly sat back down, still having a hard time letting his mission mode settle. 

Alec watched the trio wander off hand in hand before turning back to Grace. “Grace, at the first sign of any trouble, we’ll have to move on from Devil’s Gulch. It won’t be safe for us or any of you.” 

“If and when that happens, Alec. It may never. In the meantime, why don’t you two try to enjoy yourselves a little? Come out of hiding and just live life a bit. It would be good for Ellery and for you, too.”   
  
  


* * *

Featured Recipes  
  
[Tater Tot Casserole](https://thesaltymarshmallow.com/best-ever-tater-tot-casserole/)  
  
[Pistachio Fluff (aka: Watergate Salad)](https://www.momontimeout.com/pistachio-dessert-salad-pistachio-fluff-recipe/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some have asked about the recipes mentioned in this chapter, so we decided to add some links. You can find them linked at the bottom of the chapter. Odds are our American readers are more familiar with these than our readers from other places around the world.


	23. Not Quite the Pillars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec searched the room for Q, not wanting him out of his sight and found him with the girls huddled around some sort of carnival game. The girls chattered away at Q: Lucy had her arm wound tightly with his while Mele appeared to be explaining how the game was played.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We continue to gobble up your comments on each chapter. You've no idea how important they are to us, and how they really do make for a bright spot in our days. Thank you for continuing with us on this journey Alec and Q have taken us on.

It took another serving of pistachio goo and some focused breathing he’d once learned from a yogi in Canberra -- something he’d  _ never  _ admit to using,  _ ever _ \-- before Alec relaxed enough to enjoy the drinks Joshua had brought him nearly an hour before. Far from enough to even give him a buzz, there was something soothing about the familiar taste of the vodka. He’d largely given up drinking since absconding with Q and didn’t even have a bottle in the cabin anymore. Not since the night he found Q freezing to death on the porch. It had been bloody hard but necessary. He couldn’t keep an eye on Q, make sure he was safe, if he was pissed every night.

He would learn to fight the demons in other ways.

“Come with me,” Grace said once he’d downed the second drink. “There are a few people I want you to meet. Might make thinking of Devil’s Gulch as home a bit easier. Promise you’ll always have a line of sight on Ellery.” 

She linked her arm in his when he stood and steered him in the direction of The Casserole Bints who’d nearly sent Q into a full-blown panic.

“Oh, fuck no!” Alec pulled back. There were some things even a Double-O didn’t do. He was sure this was one of them. Probably listed in the manual he never got round to reading when he was a trainee. He tried to shake Grace off his arm, but she held firm like velcro on wool.

Grace laughed. “They’re not as bad as all that. I promise, Alec. They’re quite lovely. The tiny one there in the red is my Aunt Miriam.” She pointed at a very elderly woman in a stylish dress holding court among the others. She was balanced on a black walking stick with a silver handle moulded like a pinecone. “She’s 98. Raised my father after their parents died. Me, too, after Mom passed and Dad was useless for the next decade. I’ll be devastated when she goes.” Miriam smiled lovingly at Grace and took Alec’s hand when they were introduced.

Within minutes, Alec could understand why Grace would feel that way. Miriam Mikelson was a force to be reckoned with. Direct, insightful, and sharp as a tack, age had done nothing to impair her faculties nor her compassion. She and the other women had been so profuse in their apologies for frightening Q in their over-eagerness to welcome the newcomers that Alec could no longer think of them as The Casserole Bints. They were Miriam, Leila, Antonia, Helen, and Sophie: The Ladies. 

“We have tea every Tuesday promptly at 2 pm. You must come and bring that lovely young man of yours,” Aunt Miriam insisted with the other Ladies commenting in agreement. “Grace will give you directions. Don’t feel the need to bring anything. Just come and let us get to know you better.” She patted Alec’s arm before rejoining the others at their table once more to hold court. 

“What she didn’t tell you is that even though they all bake the most decadent desserts for their weekly ‘tea,’” Grace motioned in air quotes as they headed off through the room, “it’s their excuse to play poker, and the tea is liberally spiked with bourbon.”

“Them? Seriously?” Alec, glanced back at the group and chuckled, shaking his head. 

“You must’ve made an impression, or else Ellery did because no one gets invited to Tuesday Tea.  _ No one _ ...” Grace snagged Alec by the elbow and pulled him towards another group of people. A few faces he recognised from the stores they had visited in town. 

Alec searched the room for Q, not wanting him out of his sight and found him with the girls huddled around some sort of carnival game. The girls chattered away at Q: Lucy had her arm wound tightly with his while Mele appeared to be explaining how the game was played. 

“Alec, I want you to meet some of our local business owners,” Grace’s voice drew his attention back to what was in front of him. “Wouldn’t so much label them as ‘pillars of the community’, but they’re good people.”

“Speak for yourself, Grace.” A tall, dark-haired, fit man in his early 40s reached out his hand to Alec, “Bob Gibson. I own the hardware store. Starter herbs. Seen you in with your husband before but didn’t get a chance to meet you.”

Alec and Bob chatted a bit about the herbs Ellery loved so much. Bob offered up some simple ideas on what Alec could do in the south-facing bedroom to give El room to grow a few more things before he was pulled away to tend to something at the silent auction tables. 

Over the course of the next hour, Grace introduced Alec to those she felt made up the core of the Devil’s Gulch community. Not the ‘pillars’ as she’d said before, but the ones who seemed to have the pulse of the community. The ones who understood what people needed, be it individually or as a whole. Larry Dissan who owned the barbershop he’d taken Q to weeks ago. Renee Jago, the local handywoman who also delivered meals to the elderly or those too infirm to get out on their own. Jimmy Shae, who spent most of his afternoons sitting at the bar at the VFW Hall but who had learned and forgotten more about life in his 75 years than most would ever experience. The Fire Chief, Tillie Heaney, and police lieutenant, Simon Nye. Gwen Cisneros, the chemist, no,  _ pharmacist _ at Safeway who had filled all of Q’s prescriptions and wanted to meet with Ellery, Alec, Grace, and Dr. Webb sometime in the coming days to get a better understanding of Q’s condition so she could better support his needs. It was an offer that left Alec stunned. He didn’t think he had ever seen the chemist employed by Six let alone spoken with -- him? her? -- about the medication, usually painkillers or antibiotics, that had always been pushed into his hands in Medical.

“Gwen’s mother, father, and grandfather did the same back when they had their independent pharmacy,” Grace explained as she guided him to the last person on her list: Gabriel Poe who owned the nail salon next door to Raven’s Roast who took one look at Alec’s cuticles and declared them an utter disaster. “Sixty minutes at my table and you won’t recognize these hands!”

As he had throughout the evening, Alec again sought out Q within the crowd. When El and the girls grew bored with the games, they’d wandered to the silent auction where Mary Ellen appeared to explain the process to the trio, after that, it was another stop at the dessert table, and now -- 

“Where’s Ellery?”

Alec stopped, eyes searching the room quadrant by quadrant. He couldn’t find him. Nor Lucy. Nor Mele.

The fuck?!

“Alec?” Grace felt his body tense next to her as he slipped back into 006.

“I don’t see Q.”

Grace joined the visual search and for a moment felt a bit of fear when she, too, couldn’t find him, but then --

“Oh! Oh,  _ my _ !” She couldn’t help the gasp of sheer delight that passed her lips as she pointed toward the back of the warehouse. “There he is, Alec. Look!”

Q stood between Lucy and Mele in the middle of what had been designated the dance floor. And as Gloria Gaynor declared ...

_ Oh no, not I, I will survive _

_ Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive _

_ I've got all my life to live _

_ And I've got all my love to give and I'll survive _

_ I will survive, hey, hey!! _

Lucy and Mele danced and Q joined in. 

If you could call it dancing. 

Grace beamed. Alec stared in shock. Lucy, Mele, and Q were having the time of their lives. And the more Gloria declared she would survive, the wilder the trio’s animated dancing became. 

“Look at them, Alec. Oh, Ellery ...” but Alec didn’t hear another word she said because at that moment Q looked up from his head-bobbing, arm-flailing, hip-swirling dance to make eye contact with Alec. Not semi-focused and distant, but actual,  _ direct _ eye contact. 

And when he found Alec in the crowd, a joyous, impish smile split his face ...

Christ! That smile. 

He had never seen it before. 

It was incandescent. 

“Ellery ...” and along with the sigh that husked from his lips, Aleksandr Trevelyan could process only one coherent thought. 

He was so fucked. 


	24. After the Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you, Mr. Kildale! Your generosity is so very much appreciated,” Mary Ellen gushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS CHAPTER!!!
> 
> It's been one heck of a week, and goodness knows what the upcoming one is going to be like, so here's a bit more of Alec and Q to help get us through.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Alec growled as Q slid out of the passenger door of the Explorer and started up the snowy path to the cabin. “You bid on all this shite. Least you can do is help me carry it into the house.”

He yanked open the hatch and pointed at the large, two-handled basket of gardening tools in the back. “That one’s yours anyway. Get it inside and we’ll take it out to the barn tomorrow. It’s late and this snow’s only supposed to get worse.”

Though it had taken Q less than a minute on the dance floor to push Alec completely arse over tit for him, Ellery had apparently spent the previous 90 minutes doing much the same to Alec’s wallet, winning the bids on nearly a dozen items in the silent auction.

“Thank you, Mr. Kildale. Your generosity is so very much appreciated,” Mary Ellen had gushed when he swiped his card for his nearly $1000 worth of ‘donations.’

Grace had wasted no time taking the piss of him. “Makes you the single largest donor of the night, I believe,” she’d said when he took stock of Q’s purchases on his behalf.

Somehow Ellery had managed to put Alec’s Silent Auction Bidder Number on numerous items. He was now the proud recipient of a pie every week for a year from one of The Ladies, a basket filled with strange kitchen gadgets he had never seen before and probably wouldn’t ever use along with a cookbook compiled by the women’s circle of the parish, and yes -- the fuck?! -- even a gift certificate for a manicure and pedicure at Poe’s Salon.

The list went on and on.

A certificate to Raven’s Roast, of all things. 

A seven-course meal at the local farm to table restaurant they walked past every day on the way to Grace’s. 

Then came the gardening items: three hours of garden tiller rental, a gift certificate to Bob Gibson’s hardware store for plants, and the aforementioned basket of gardening tools. 

Now Alec understood why Ellery had been eyeing the plot of earth between the barn and the house. Been standing out there for hours some afternoons. Just turning around and looking, pacing back and forth through the snow. He’d been measuring a future home for his plants. 

“Just where do you think you are going? Ellery! We’ll deal with that tomorrow.” Grabbing up the basket of gardening tools, Q headed off towards the barn in the snow. 

“Guess tomorrow is now. Not as if you ever listen to me anyway! And I’m going to have a chat with Lucy and Mele. Obvious Co-conspirators in this covert mission of yours!”

Q waded through the snow towards the barn not paying attention to one thing Alec was saying. Well maybe he was as he stopped outside the barn door and turned back towards Alec with a look that said, “Well are you going to unlock it?!”

Alec set the second basket containing the kitchen gadgets, cookbook, and gift certificates on the porch before heading for the barn. He took several deep breaths of the snowy, frigid night air to try to clear his head. 

When “I Will Survive” ended, Q made a beeline for Alec, slotting himself into his customary spot at his side, so close it took no effort to curl his little finger around Alec’s who’d suddenly found it difficult to breathe under the power of that clear, green spectacled gaze and lingering smile. From a distance, they had been life-changing. Up close, they were devastating. 

It had taken every ounce of willpower Alec had -- along with some he probably channelled from Tanner whose self-control was legendary within Six -- to not curl his hand around the back of Q’s head and kiss him senseless.

But whatever Gloria had sparked within Q did not linger long. Mele and Lucy came bounding up to them, chattering excitedly, still high on adrenaline from the power ballad. By the time Alec turned his attention back to Q, his eyes had grown distant again and his expression had sobered. 

Ellery had stepped back into his twilight world.

Alec would give anything to know what kept luring Q back there, again and again, so he could annihilate it and keep Ellery here. 

With him. 

His heart ached in his chest.

It was then that Mary Ellen’s auction runners appeared out of the crowd to congratulate Alec on his successful -- and surprising -- bids. 

“We will have a conversation about this, you little shite,” Alec had whispered in Q’s ear when he’d seen the scope of the eclectic selection. “I do  _ not _ need a pedicure.”

They left not long after.

They said their goodbyes to Grace, confirming their plans to meet at the shop late the next afternoon. Bob Gibson had helped him cart everything out to the Explorer whilst Q settled himself in the passenger seat. Ellery surprised Alec yet again by buckling himself in for the first time. His movements were slow and deliberate as if his fingers couldn’t quite remember how to perform the action, but he was comfortably settled by the time Alec put the car in gear and they pulled out of the car park and onto the back roads that would take them home.

The ride back to the cabin was not without its emotional cartwheels, however. 

For Alec at any rate. 

They weren’t even a quarter mile down the road when Q reached out and grasped Alec’s right hand where it rested on his thigh. Not uncommon. Alec turned it palm up because Ellery sometimes liked to place his closed fist in the loose, shallow bowl formed by Alec’s hand.

Q had other ideas, however. Instead of just resting it there, Ellery flattened his hand and twined his fingers with Alec’s, squeezing and releasing, running them against Alec’s own before pulling back his fingertips, skimming along the sensitive skin of Alec’s palm. 

Alec swallowed his gasp. He was not some swooning heroine in a bloody Harlequin Romance, thank you very much, but his fingers and palm buzzed with the touch for some moments afterward. Just as the sensation started to fade, Q repeated the process.

It had the same effect, but Alec couldn’t be quite certain how aware Ellery was of his actions or the impact of them because he never once stopped looking out the side window into the darkness.

It was innocent. It wasn’t quite hand-holding.

Was it?

Christ. Maybe he _was_ a swooning heroine.

It happened four more times on the ride home, and by the time they pulled into the drive, Alec’s hand felt like it needed to discharge a bolt of energy.

So now, here he was, breathing deeply of frigid air in an attempt to get himself under control before he pushed Ellery up against the barn wall and …

No. Just no!

Control, you idiot. Get yourself under control! 

Patience. 

Not like this.

A sudden rattling, made all the sharper for the crisp night air, caught his attention. Alec dropped his eyes from the snowy heavens from which he had sought counsel not forthcoming to see Q, basket abandoned in the snow, tugging violently at the locked barn door, desperate to get inside.

It was then that Alec heard the screaming.


	25. Late Night Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The screaming inside the barn continued. “What the fuck is going on in there? Sounds like something’s being murdered.” Alec muttered as he tried to unlock the door and keep Q at bay. His plan was to enter first, gun in hand, secure the barn, and then let Q inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday Update!! 
> 
> Cliffhanger to be resolved! Welcome to one of our favourite chapters. Many important developments in this one, dear readers. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

Alec ran to the barn and pulled Q away from the door. “You are not going in first! Understand!” Q tried to edge past him, but Alec kept him firmly away from the door. “Ellery! I said no!” 

The screaming inside the barn continued. “What the fuck is going on in there? Sounds like something’s being murdered.” Alec muttered as he tried to unlock the door and keep Q at bay. His plan was to enter first, gun in hand, secure the barn, and then let Q inside. 

Best laid plans ... because as soon as the door was just cracked a little, Q tried to bolt inside, but Alec was faster and snagged him by the arm. 

“Ellery! No!”

Q turned to face him as he struggled in Alec’s grip. Eyes focused. Looking up at Alec. Frantic. Determined. 

“Ca... ca...” sounds, harsh, scratchy. Trying. Forced. Unused for so long. 

“Ellery?  _ El _ ?” Q struggled to pull away, desperate to get inside the barn, but Alec grabbed him by both shoulders, his eyes wide in disbelief at what seemed to finally be happening. 

“Ca... ca... caaat!” Q forced it out, broken. But... it was a word.

“El!” Alec lifted Q in a bear hug and planted a lingering kiss on his forehead in spite of the smile that split his own face. “You brilliant man!” 

Q clung to Alec, returning the hug and pressing into the kiss but only briefly. The cat’s yowls continued and Ellery squirmed in Alec’s embrace, eventually wiggling his way out of his arms, darting through the partially open door.

“C … Caaat! Cat!”

“Christ! Ellery! You don’t know if--” Alec dashed in, half a step behind, weapon drawn. He hit the light switch just inside the door and stepped quickly past Q to do a quick assessment of the cavernous space for threats. Thankfully, he found none because Ellery clearly had no concern for his safety, not bothering to wait for Alec’s ‘all clear’ to start his own systematic search of the barn for the cat. The yowling, louder inside, seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

“Someone’s bloody pissed off,” Alec muttered, finally joining Q in his search, trying not to trip in surprise -- and pleasure -- each time he heard Ellery mutter ‘cat’ as he hunted for his quarry through the old stalls that housed the snowmobile, the military-grade Polaris ATV, and various other ‘resources’ Alec had deemed necessary for this safehouse

Then the mutter became a shout.

“CAT!”

Alec followed the line of Q’s raised arm …

Bloody, buggering fuck! 

“You are  _ not _ going up there!” Alec pulled Q back from the ladder, lifted him bodily, and sat him atop the bonnet of the ATV.

“CAT!” Ellery, as engaged as he had been in months, glared at him and pointed at the animal perched on the edge of the hayloft, looking down at them as it continued to scream. 

Alec grinned at Q’s irritation, his annoyance even better than the smile earlier that night, in Alec’s opinion. He’d heard this look in his ear countless times on comms, and to finally see it now took Alec back to all those long conversations they’d had getting to know one another in the months before things had gone so wrong for Q.

“Yes. I know. I hear it. The whole bloody mountain can probably hear it. I’m going to go get it. You are going to keep your arse right here. You even think about moving, and I won’t make that pistachio goo you liked so much. Planned to go into town tomorrow to get the ingredients.”

Ellery’s glare eased.

“Cat.” Petulant but compliant … barely. 

Translation: Fine, but go get it, you absolute arse!

“Better. Stay here.” Alec poked Q’s knee twice to emphasise his point. “This’ll be fun,” he muttered, grasping the ladder.

Halfway up, as Q kept reminding him that it was a “Cat”, it occurred to Alec that grabbing an insanely howling, unknown cat without any protective gear was probably not a brilliant move, even for a Double-O. He hoped his leather coat would be enough to keep him from getting sliced to bits.

“Alright, Alright …” Alec hushed the moaning feline. “Got yourself up here with no plans on how to get down, didn’t you?” The cat just howled back at him whilst Q continued to announce that it was a cat. 

Alec couldn’t help but chuckle at the ludicrous scene all this must have made. His life was insane. Pure unadulterated insanity.

“Hush… Hush… not going to hurt you. Ellery down there thinks he needs you.” Alec tried to sound non-threatening and then realised he was talking to the cat as if it was a civilian caught in the wrong place during a mission. 

Alec wasted no time when he reached the top of the ladder and snagged the cat by the scruff, determined not to have a chase around the barn loft. Holding it out as far away from him as he could, he descended the ladder. 

The cat flailed, clawed, screamed, and howled the entire time. 

“Cat!” Q insisted below from the bonnet of the ATV.

When his feet were finally on the ground, Alec released the distraught cat but before it could scarper off, Q scooped it up and began cooing at it. 

And were those  _ birdie  _ noises?! 

“Cat!” That broad smile crossed Ellery’s face again as he looked up at Alec. 

No bullet fired from a gun ever managed to punch through his protective armour like that smile. 

Point blank. 

To his heart.

And Alec Trevelyan, Agent 006 of Her Majesty’s Secret Service, didn’t even try to dodge it for it was then he finally accepted that there were far, far worse things in this world than to be arse over tit in love with his Quartermaster.

Christ.

“Come on you, two,” he grumbled, guiding the still cooing Q and the now purring Siamese in his arms toward the door. “Let’s get out of the bloody cold, then we can figure out what in the hell we’re all going to do with one another.”


	26. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another wee detour on our journey.
> 
> Thank you all again for the fabulous comments! Our day is made so much brighter by your enthusiasm for this story. Ta ever so much!

Breathe in ... Breathe out ... 

Sip of coffee. 

Maybe he would fish today. 

Take a nap. 

Take a walk. 

Take another nap. 

Sip coffee.

Eat breakfast.

Maybe he would visit the market. Haggle over fish and produce. 

Have a drink and visit with the local fishermen about their latest escapades. 

Sip of coffee.

Breathe in ... Breathe out ... 

She is restless. Her words. Not his. 

He would have drifted more towards using bored,

bored to tears, 

bored to death, 

bored out of his mind, 

bored stiff, 

bored rigid, 

bored stupid ...

She prattles on across the breakfast table. 

He listens enough to answer at the appropriate times just as he had done when M had lectured him so many times. 

“Yes, Darling. 

Of course, Darling. 

That sounds like fun, Darling.

Whatever you’d like to do, Darling.”

Of course, the lectures with M never involved ‘Darling’, he chuckles to himself, garnering an odd raised eyebrow look from across the table. 

And that ‘conversation’ he’d not paid attention to is the reason why he’s now wandering the streets of Matera with her looking for a ‘quaint’ restaurant for dinner. 

Like tourists. 

Fuck... they are tourists! He. Is. A. Tourist! He mourns inwardly as he hears himself say to her, “Yes Darling. This looks perfect.”

This is the life he wanted.

…

...

Wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?!

Breathe in ...

Day Two: Historic sites.

His mobile sits heavily in his jacket pocket.

Breathe out ...

Day Three: Religious sites.

He fingers the phone in his trouser pocket, the edges sharp beneath his fingertips.

Breathe in ...

Day Four: Museums.

Put your mobile away, James. Come. Look. These clay pots are stunning.

Yes, darling. Quite stunning.

Breathe out ...

Day Five and Six: _Stunning_ vistas and _excellent_ food.

He checks his personal contacts list. Not so many as once there were. Most are dead. 

She returns from powdering her nose. He puts the mobile away before she sees it.

Breathe in ...

Fuck.

The life he wanted.

Fuck.

Day Seven: Shopping

He’s outside a cafe. She’ll be a while.

They fly back to Jamaica tomorrow.

Breathe out ...

He fingers the edge of his mobile. There on the table for the world to see. 

The list … open. 

Sip of coffee. 

Eve. 

Breathe in …

Felix.

Breathe out …

Sasha.

Breathe in …

Q.

Fuck.

The life he had. 

Breathe out ... 

His sigh sounds like a death rattle. 

He dials the number before he can stop himself.

He needs …

He _needs_... 

More. 

“Hello, Gorgeous.”


	27. Cat!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve gone and let my emotions get the best of me, Grace,” Alec blurted out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such fabulous comments to the last chapter. Our Bond interludes definitely seem to generate some rather visceral reactions. Thank you so much!! 
> 
> But, no, he didn't ring Q.

Alec woke with a groan and a curse, scrunched up low on the bed. The feline hogging his pillow had nearly pushed him off the cushion altogether and was curled in a ball between him and the headboard. Her purring had woken him. If the Explorer’s engine ever sounded like that, he’d have to have it serviced, but she was clearly content. Felt safe in her new space. Shame Alec had never quite mastered the art of sharing. 

“Off you!” He batted at the creature’s arse, his own growl low so as not to disturb his still sleeping human bedmate. Thankfully, whatever demon had possessed her voice box in the barn last night seemed to be sleeping too, and she roused with a minimum of protest. She curled up behind Q’s neck on _his_ pillow and resumed her intense purring but not before shooting Alec a bored look that said, ‘Fine! This is where I wanted to be anyway, you tit!’ 

It had taken them the better part of an hour to fully calm the cat once they got her inside the cabin. Though she responded immediately to Q’s continued cooing, chittering, and birdie noises, she was still jumpy. Traumatised by whatever had driven her into the barn, to begin with. It hadn’t just been the cold. When she’d finally unwound enough for them to check her out, Alec had found dried blood in the fur of her front paws and three bloody toes. The claws ripped clear from the quick.

She was a fighter.

“Good,” he’d told Q. “She’ll fit right in.” 

Q had looked at him with surprise.

“What? Of course, we’re keeping her.” Alec had said. Like he’d get rid of the animal who’d help pull Q from his fog. “We’ll take her to see the vet tomorrow, get those toes checked out, but let’s clean her up in the meantime.” He’d beat a hasty retreat to the upstairs bath at that moment to get supplies, completely unable to handle the look of joy on Q’s face at the news their odd little family of two was to become three. 

Coward.

Q took complete control from that point onward. His hands seemed slow and his movements a bit sluggish, but then he’d not been this engaged in anything since 004’s mission. Even his plants didn’t require this level of dexterity. He’d soon had the cat’s toes cleansed and cared for and carted her off to the kitchen where he dug around inside the cupboard until he found tinned tuna which he handed to Alec.

“Cat,” Ellery said, handing him a saucer and the tin opener, and Alec plated the fish whilst Q filled a small bowl with water. 

The cat fell on each like a shark in chum infested waters.

They’d gone to bed soon after, the cat tolerating Alec’s holding her whilst Q situated himself in the large bed. By the time Alec joined them, showered and clad in flannel sleep pants and a t-shirt, Q was nestled among the large pillows, buried under blankets near the middle of the bed with the cat curled up in the crook of his neck, both asleep.

Alec had dithered at the side of the bed. He was exhausted, but his tangle of emotions was such that he didn’t know if crawling into bed with the man he loved, the man who was not himself and may never be again, was the smart choice.

Then Q had opened his eyes. The light in the room was an odd, shadowy glow caused by the heavily falling snow outside, but the look in Ellery’s eyes was clear. Not that Alec had any choice in misinterpreting it.

Ellery pulled back the duvet. “Cat,” he said.

Alec obeyed.

Surprisingly, he’d slept until woken by the cat’s purring.

His pillow vacated by the interloper, Alec budged up on the bed, and as he did so, Q cuddled in closer. Chasing body heat in his sleep, Ellery soon had himself wrapped around Alec with an arm and a leg thrown over his body. Cat was abandoned on Q’s pillow as her human snuggled his human. 

Still exhausted from the events of the day before, Alec curled into the new warmth and fell back to sleep before he could think too much.

When Alec woke the second time, it was with Q curled around him like an octopus, and he relished in the warmth and comfort of the contact. He was leaning in to kiss Ellery good morning when his mind woke completely. Then his logic and emotions kicked into full gear and panic set it. He weaseled himself out from under the gangly limbs, making a quick retreat downstairs. 

Yes, retreat. 

Retreat is sometimes the best option to maintain mission status. 

Fuck!

Whilst the coffee slowly perked, he banged his forehead against the kitchen cupboard door. He was so fucking doomed. How did he not see this happening? Some observant, skilled-in-espionage secret agent, he was.

In love.

With his Quartermaster.

Granted, Ellery really wasn’t his Quartermaster anymore, but ...

He was so fucking fucked. 

“Cat.” The word, croaked yet posh from behind him interrupted Alec’s internal whinging, and he turned at the glorious sound. Q stood in the kitchen entryway, cat cuddled in his arms, announcing their arrival before turning and heading back into the depths of the cabin. 

The sound of locks turning and the back door opening sent Alec on a dead run, “Ellery!” He found him outside, depositing the cat at the bottom of the porch steps so the feline could do her business. Barefooted. No coat. Ground covered in a fresh, frigid, white blanket eight inches deep. 

“Are you insane, you little shite! No shoes! No coat! I’ll be hauling your arse in town to Dr. Webb because you caught your death out here!” 

“Cat! Cat!” was the protest as Alec practically scooped Q up in his arms to haul him back inside. Cat nonchalantly followed them back in the door as if such a kerfuffle was an everyday occurrence in her life. 

“Meeeooowww...”

“Cat!”

“You are such a shite!” 

The three-sided ~~argument~~ debate regarding Ellery’s lack of winter wear continued through breakfast.

Hours later, Alec sat with Grace in Raven’s Roast sipping his fourth -- or was it fifth? -- coffee of the day, watching as Q, Sam, and Lucy entertained the cat in her new carrier at their usual table in the corner. 

“So what’s her name?”

“Cat,” Alec said from behind the lip of the mug. “Ellery’s choice.”

Of course, it was.

They’d already visited the veterinarian who declared Cat in excellent health and tended to her damaged toes and claws. Alec and Q left with antibiotics, pain killers, food recommendations, a New Cat Welcome Kit, and a reminder to call in to schedule an appointment as soon as possible for Cat to be spayed. “She’s very young, barely a year old, but old enough to have kittens of her own,” Dr. Heller warned.

“Half the Explorer’s filled with cat supplies, too,” he admitted, trying not to think about how much he’d spent at Callie’s Pet Supply Shoppe. 

Grace saw the cringe anyway. Knew what it meant. “You’d pay twice the price for what Cat’s already done for Ellery. I’m … Alec … he’s _speaking_!”

“If you call saying ‘cat’ for absolutely _everything_ ‘speaking’, then yeah, he is.” But Alec couldn’t hide his pleasure at the development. 

“I find myself unprofessionally envious,” Grace admitted. For whilst Ellery’s use of ‘cat’ had trailed off somewhat between breakfast and their journey into town, it had cut off completely upon their arrival. Q had made it quite clear that ‘cat’ was for Alec’s ears only. Grace noted the way Alec was looking at Q. “There’s a bit more going on than just the excitement Cat’s arrival has generated, isn’t there?” It was said carefully as an invitation to confidence if Alec wanted it.

Uncharacteristically, he did.

Alec ran a hand through his scruffy hair. Then sipped and fussed at his coffee some more. Went to the counter with Sam to get another refill. Grace waited patiently while the agent prepared himself to share the emotions he’d tried to avoid and was struggling with. 

He paused, watching Q sitting with Lucy two tables over as the young woman flipped through an HGTV magazine, sharing with him all about how she was going to redecorate her room. There was no input from Q, but Lucy had grown to expect just that and didn’t seem to mind. 

“I’ve gone and let my emotions get the best of me, Grace,” Alec blurted out as he flopped back down in his chair. The words fell out quickly as though if he didn’t say them now, in this exact moment, he never would. “Fallen arse over tit for the little shite.” The admission was followed by a mutter of curses in Russian. 

“Well, this does complicate things,” Grace commented. Alec didn’t dare to look at her, knowing he would see utter horror in her expression. 

“I know I shouldn’t have... didn’t think... it just hit me out of the blue when I realised...”

“Alec, it’s not a _bad_ thing. I didn’t say that. Just complicates things. Not just for Ellery but for you, too.” Her tone was such that Alec risked a look and found no horror on her face, only a gentle smile he was no not expecting. 

“This is such a cock-up. Never thought...” Alec glanced Q’s direction again. Lucy had different colour paint samples laid out in front of them now, babbling on. 

“Alec...” Grace caught his attention again. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“How can I…” Alec paused trying to gather his thoughts. Too many factors. Too many layers to what was going on inside him, so he went with the biggest. “What if he never comes back?”

“To whom he fully was before?”

Alec nodded, unable to articulate it. Even sharing what he already had was bloody painful, but …

“Which man did you fall in love with, Alec? The Quartermaster or Ellery?”

Not the question he was expecting. “I’m sorry? What?” He sputtered in his coffee.

Grace sat her own cup down on the table. A sign Alec had learnt over the months meant he’d better pay close attention to what she was going to say next.

“The foundation of your relationship began when he was your handler on missions. Hours spent talking about things that didn’t always have to do with the assignment at hand, you said. You never had an opportunity to put any of that into actual practice with Q. But I would say that you know _Ellery_ just as well, probably more so. You’ve learned to read the silence and the look in his eyes at any given moment. You don’t need the words to interpret his needs and you do everything you can to fulfill them. Not because you’re his carer but because you care _about_ him. Because you love him. _This_ him. Who he is and who he was, both. In all its complexity.” Grace watched with Alec as Q fed Cat some of the freeze-dried shrimp treats he’d chosen at Callie’s. “I told you at the beginning of this Ellery may never get back to who he was before. The question you should really ask yourself is are you prepared to love the person Ellery is becoming?”

Alec couldn’t imagine not loving El. Not anymore. He said as much. Sort of.

Grace chuckled. “I know you’d rather shoot yourself in the leg than talk about your feelings, so the fact that you _are_ should tell _you_ how important this is to you.”

“But how do I know what he _wants_?!” He gestured helplessly. “I feel like I’m … taking advantage of the situation.”

“Have you? And no, thoughts don’t count.”

He’d been thinking of the thoughts he’d had last night of kissing Q senseless against the barn wall and again in bed this morning. Somehow she’d known that. “You’re really quite scary at times, you know? But, no, of _course_ not. I wouldn’t.”

“You’re not taking advantage of the situation, and you’ve forgotten that Ellery is often quite direct in letting you know what he wants. Your grocery shopping is a testament to that. So is last night’s auction.”

“But this is different. This isn’t about _things_.”

“Have you forgotten _he_ moved himself into _your_ bed?”

Oh. Yeah.

“Exactly.” 

“Stop reading my expressions, damn it!”

“It’s what I do. It’s what I’m paid to do.”

“I don’t pay you.” 

“Only for the coffee, so be grateful because my rates are astronomical. But the point is even though Ellery is often elsewhere, he’s still a competent adult capable of making choices for himself. He communicates to you his wants and needs, and he’s not exactly subtle in them, either.” She watched Ellery accept a kiss on the cheek from Lucy as she packed up her things, break over, and headed back to the counter. 

“He’ll let you know what he wants in this, too. I promise you that.” Grace patted his hand and stood up. It was her turn to be introduced to Cat. “Now you just have to figure out what _you_ want.”

Alec looked at her like she had grown a second head.

Fuck.


	28. What Q Wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord knew he’d been broken and put back together more times than Humpty Dumpty, but it had made Alec stronger in the long run, at least in some ways, and part of him held onto the hope that the same would hold true for Q. Sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that this story deals with complicated issues of mental health. Q's mental illness is a hybrid of several conditions, but that is to in no way negate the experiences of those who suffer from and seek treatment for (or don't seek treatment for) mental illness. Neither should it draw away from the experiences of those who love and care for those with mental illnesses. No one person's experience is the same. We ask you to remember this as well as the fact that this story has been deliberately tagged as "Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings." We will provide this reminder every so often.
> 
> Additionally, it is important to note that, as Grace has said many times, Q/Ellery will always find a way to communicate his needs, his wants ... and his consent.

Alec tried and failed to engage Q on the drive back to the cabin. He chatted about Cat and what he was going to prepare for dinner. He’d even bought the ingredients for the green pistachio goo El had so loved at the Winter Festival, but Q only stared out the passenger window at the snow the entire way giving Alec’s attempts nothing but silence in return. 

Q’s vocal cat commentary seemed to have completely retreated, leaving Alec concerned that it had been a momentary fluke Ellery had even spoken at all. Grace thought Ellery’s all-encompassing “cat” might be the result of a type of selective mutism but wanted to do a bit more research before committing to a diagnosis. “He’s proving to be the most complex patient I’ve ever worked with,” she admitted, “but he’s worth every effort.”

When they arrived at the cabin, Q remained in the Explorer, waiting until Alec finally came to the passenger side, opened the door, and unbuckled the seat belt for him. He did manage to retrieve Cat in her carrier and helped with a couple bags of their purchases, but it was with slow, deliberate moves. His mind was clearly elsewhere. 

Once inside, Q opened Cat’s crate and plopped down with her to sit in front of the television, still not a word spoken. Alec sighed and left Q to get lost in whatever series he was caught up in now, Cat in his arms. He’d had such hopes when Q had spoken. Now he wasn’t sure. 

He couldn’t help but replay his conversation with Grace over and over again in his head later that evening as he prepared dinner. He knew she was right, but it didn’t stop him from cursing her anyway. He loved Ellery. Not the Quartermaster alone. But the whole Ellery. All the pieces, and it didn’t matter to Alec if those pieces were a little fractured or not. Lord knew he’d been broken and put back together more times than Humpty Dumpty, but it had made Alec stronger in the long run, at least in some ways, and part of him held onto the hope that the same would hold true for Q. Sooner or later. 

He just needed to figure out how to manage all of this. 

“Dinner El!” He called out. “Bring Cat, and we’ll feed her, also.” Q wandered into the kitchen, setting Cat down on the floor next to the new mat where Alec had already dished up her food and refilled her water bowl. 

Alec had just put their filled plates on the table when he turned around and found himself standing toe to toe with Q. 

Hands on his hips in what could only be his Quartermaster stance, he wore a puzzled look on his face. 

“El... didn’t see you...” Alec half apologised but Q stepped into his personal space even further. 

“Cat.” At first the tone seemed to be chiding Alec, but then, “Cat!” Insistent. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, Ellery. God knows I wish I did.”

Then Q reached up, one hand on the side of Alec’s face, the other wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss Q initiated could have come right out of a passionate scene in a romantic film. 

There was no mistaking its intent. 

Though a bit chapped from the winter cold, Alec was quickly lost in their plump softness as Ellery’s lips teased and assailed his mouth. 

“Cat ...” Breaking the kiss, Q caressed Alec’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, smiled up at him, and stepped back. Then, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, sat down at his place at the table and tucked into his dinner. 

Alec, however, didn’t remember much of the next 20 minutes. He ate on autopilot, swallowing flavourful tomato basil soup and crispy cheese toasties with a mouth that buzzed throughout the meal. A mouth that couldn’t possibly have belonged to him, it felt just too bloody good.

Because Q had kissed it.

Had kissed _him_!

But Ellery sat across him, eating his own soup and sandwich as though he _hadn’t_ just kissed Alec. As though his own mouth wasn’t singing with sensation.

As though it was … the most natural thing in the world.

Alec stood and collected their plates when they’d eaten their fill.

“Cat,” Q told him with a slight smile before he scooped up his Siamese and took her to go watch more telly.

Alec was halfway through the washing up before he snapped back into reality. “The fuck?!” The pot he was scrubbing clattered in the bottom of the sink, abandoned when Alec strode into the sitting room.

“You kissed me!”

Q turned his attention from HGTV’s _Gardening by the Yard_. That slight smile, more enigmatic than the bloody Mona Lisa’s, was on his face again.

“You did! You kissed me!”

Cat, who was curled up on Ellery’s lap, looked up at him over her shoulder and let out a series of meeps and meows that Alec was convinced was some sort of disparaging commentary on his observational skills.

The look Q gave her in return did nothing to dissuade him of that notion. 

“Why did you kiss me?”

A series of expressions played out on Ellery’s face, each more complex and telling than the one that came before. He bit his lip and seemed to be searching for words that simply would not come and finally was left with a very emphatic, “Cat!” 

“You heard Grace and me talking about everything, didn’t you? Of course you did!” Alec was so focussed on Q’s motivation for the kiss -- that he hadn’t somehow felt pressured into it -- that he wasn’t remotely embarrassed Ellery had heard him spill everything to Grace about what he felt. “How do I know any of this is what _you_ want?” 

Cat had no choice but to jump out of Ellery’s lap, he hopped off the sofa so quickly. He again stood toe to toe with Alec, and this time, when Q grabbed hold of Alec’s button down, it was not to soothe his own fears and anxiety as he had done so many times before. It was to hold Alec in place so he could lean up and kiss him senseless again.

As passionate as the first kiss had been, this one was just that much more so.

Though no more prepared for this kiss than the one before, Alec found he had no will to resist it. Again Q used the kiss in place of the words he could not access to communicate his intent and desires. Fingers tangling in Alec’s hair this time, Ellery’s lips were demanding and insistent but not intrusive. 

Christ, Ellery was a good kisser! He nipped and teased at Alec’s mouth, his tongue skimming the seam not to demand entry but to encourage a response.

And Alec so responded. 

He pulled Q to him, practically lifting him off the ground as he poured everything he felt for his Quartermaster, Q, and Ellery into the kiss.

They took from and gave to one another in equal measure, and Alec felt a heaviness he had carried within him for years begin to lighten.

Then Ellery hummed happily against his mouth.

Alec jumped, releasing Q so abruptly only his quick reflexes kept him from dropping El on the floor. Ellery landed on the sofa with an exaggerated bounce, instead.

“I’m … I’m sorry.” Alec gestured at the sofa and at each of them. Scrubbed at his hair. At his face. Hand lingering on his mouth. Then he backed away quickly. “I shouldn’t have … or _should_ I have? I don’t … I’m going to go check the perimetre,” he said in a rush. 

Nevermind he had checked the perimetre after they got back from town, barely three hours before. 

Alec pulled his heavy coat from its peg, grabbed his rifle from the secured gun cabinet, and was out the door before Q could shout after him, “Cat!”

* * *

The recipes featured in the Winter Festival chapters proved to be so popular that we thought we would start to link recipes to the various foods mentioned and made in this story. The pistachio goo, in particular, was made for at least one Memorial Day gathering that I know of. And that was the best news EVER!!  
  


[ Tomato Basil Soup ](https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/roasted-tomato-basil-soup-recipe-1940376)


	29. A Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec procrastinated until he felt he absolutely couldn’t leave Ellery alone in the cabin any longer, but he wasn’t expecting what he found when he finally went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that this story deals with complicated issues of mental health. Q's mental illness is a hybrid of several conditions, but that is to in no way negate the experiences of those who suffer from and seek treatment for (or don't seek treatment for) mental illness. Neither should it draw away from the experiences of those who love and care for those with mental illnesses. No one person's experience is the same. We ask you to remember this as well as the fact that this story has been deliberately tagged as "Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings." We will provide this reminder every so often.
> 
> Additionally, it is important to note that, as Grace has said many times, Q/Ellery will always find a way to communicate his needs, his wants ... and his consent.

Alec checked the perimeter not once, but twice. All the time playing through his head what had happened between himself and Q. He stood on the back porch watching the outer edges of the darkness shift and flow as the clouds passed overhead. 

He loved Ellery. Q. The Quartermaster. All of those rolled into one. And something had happened tonight that had brought emotions to the surface in Ellery also. But was El capable of truly understanding what Alec hoped he felt for him? There  _ had  _ been something there before, some sort of connection between the two of them that went beyond the professional, he was sure of that … mostly. Their exploration of it had been interrupted by Q’s break -- as Grace had said -- but did that mean it was gone entirely?

Christ what a mess.

Alec started towards the back door then hesitated, turning back. Digging into his coat pocket for a pack of cigarettes, he stood out in the cold a little longer. 

Avoidance. 

Procrastination.

Until he absolutely felt he couldn’t leave Ellery alone in the cabin any longer, but he wasn’t expecting what he found when he finally went inside. 

Every cushion, pillow, and throw blanket was scattered across the floor of the sitting room as if tossed in a tantrum. The large ottoman was overturned and even the telly was slightly askew on its stand. Q himself was pressed against the front door staring out into the darkness. He didn’t acknowledge that Alec had come back into the cabin. 

Silent. 

“Ellery?” Alec stepped up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

Q pulled away from him and began pacing the room. Stomping across the clutter of pillows. Agitated. 

Refusing eye contact.

Q paced his route around the sitting room. He kicked at the pillows and cushions that impeded his progress, wrapped himself in the woollen throw that had landed on the telly only to rip it off his body moments later, wad it into a ball, and hurl it back toward the telly in frustration. 

Alec stayed out of Q’s way, standing next to the bookshelf atop which Cat had taken refuge. She looked down at Alec, meeped twice, and settled more squarely on her haunches, watching the proceedings with her keen blue eyes. 

Three times Ellery made his circuit, gesticulating wildly, lips moving in silent conversation with … himself? Someone in his twilight world? Alec couldn’t tell, but he didn’t think Q was fully in this world anymore.

It was when he started pulling at his hair and slapping at his own chest that Alec stepped forward and blocked his path.

“Ellery, enough!”

Surprisingly, Q stopped in his tracks. Arms loose at his sides, shoulders slumped, head bowed.

Alec cupped Ellery’s chin and raised his head. “Look at me please.” 

No response.

“El … please. Look at me.”

A moment, then another, but finally Q raised his eyes.

Frustration.

Discouragement. 

Confusion. 

Loss.

All of them. There in Q’s green eyes.

“No. Oh, no … El …”

Q’s mouth twitched, his throat fluttered, lips spasmed and shuddered. Behind his specs, eyes welled with frustrated tears. He was trying to find the words. To  _ say _ the words that would make all the difference, that would make everything he was feeling and wanted clear, but they would not come.

“Caaa-aaa-ttttt.” It was as grief-stricken a sound as Alec had ever heard, and it broke his heart. Alec’s resolve melted, and he pulled the younger man into his arms tucking the head of dark curls underneath his chin. 

“Shush, El. It’s alright. Nothing’s wrong. It’s me. I’m an utter gobshite!” Alec could feel the wavering in him, shoulders quivering as Q struggled to find his emotional footing. 

“Ellery,” Alec gently pulled him back a tad, fingers under his chin, trying to get him to look up. “El... please look at me.” Alec waited patiently and finally after what seemed like an eternity, Q looked at him again. 

And Alec spoke the words that were becoming a promise between them, “I see you, Ellery. I hear you.” Alec could almost reach out and touch the confusion and unspoken, inaccessible words that were caught someplace in Ellery’s world as if they were a tangible thing. 

“Oh, El... it has to be so frustrating to have one foot here and one foot in another place. We’ll figure this out. We will. Whatever this is.”

“Cat...” Q’s eyes dropped to the floor. His body slumped. Resignation hung on him like an ill-fitting suit. 

“I know, El... Cat.” Alec sighed. Grace told him to be patient. That Ellery would show him in his own time. At the moment, though, he wasn’t really convinced this is what Grace had meant. 

“Why don’t you and that furry princess of yours head up and get ready for bed. It’s been a long day.” Even though he was staring at the floor, Alec could tell that things were slowly processing through Q’s head, and eventually, with what could have been interpreted as a pout, Q nabbed the cat off the top of the bookshelf and headed upstairs. 

From the top of the stairs, Alec heard a questioning ”Cat?” directed at him. 

“I’ve a few things to tend down here. Be there in a mo’.”

Alec didn’t dither in setting things to rights downstairs. Cushions and pillows back on the sofa. Throws in their proper places. Dishes in the dishwasher. Coffee pot ready for morning. Doors locked. Security system engaged.

Alec climbed the stairs carrying two stainless steel water bottles and a bucket full of doubt. Ellery was asleep with only his hair visible beneath the duvet, Cat curled up at his side. Alec rested his hand atop Q’s head, barely any pressure, just enough to feel the soft curls beneath his fingers. Ellery nuzzled against it in his sleep then buried himself deeper beneath the blankets. He did not wake. 

Alec showered quickly, slid on his sleep trousers and t-shirt, and slipped as quietly as he could beneath the duvet. It didn’t matter. He was greeted with an armful of warm, drowsy but very awake Q. Suddenly, the doubts didn’t seem quite so insurmountable.

“We take this slowly,” he decided. Alec lifted Ellery’s chin with a tip of his finger. Ellery’s eyes were two clear and knowing points of light in the darkness. “People don’t always need words to be understood or make choices. We both know that, but it’s a lot harder. It’s going to take time for us to understand one another again, and I’m not going to risk you by going too quickly. You okay with that?”

Q thought on Alec’s words for a moment then pressed a kiss to his cheek. The ‘cat’ he whispered in Alec’s ear was one of wholehearted agreement, but then he brushed the pad of his thumb across Alec’s lips as he had done earlier that night and his own pursed in a pout of disappointment. Alec chuckled and kissed the pad of Ellery’s thumb.

“I said slowly, not glacial.”

Would Ellery’s smile always dazzle him? 

Probably.

The first kiss had been for Q to make a point.

The second kiss, his clarification.

The third kiss …

A joint beginning.

Their lips met by silent agreement. It was slow and searching for there was no rush. They had all night --  _ every _ night, if they wanted -- to learn and be understood. 

Alec pulled Q to him. Ellery tangled his fingers in Alec’s still damp, shaggy hair, but the intensity of their exploration did not change. The kiss was intimate but not sexual, and under the leisurely, steady, and undemanding pressure, Ellery’s earlier frustration at not being easily understood ebbed then melted away. Alec’s fears and uncertainty slept for now, comforted by the sudden surety that it didn’t matter to him if Q spoke again or not, spent half his days in this world or the other, they were in this together.

“I see you,” Alec said against Q’s mouth when the kiss finally ended. Ellery nuzzled the side of Alec’s face before twisting in his arms, pressing his back against Alec’s chest.

“I hear you.” It was whispered into Ellery’s ear. Alec curled his foot around Q’s ankle, pulling him as close as he could. “I always will.”

Cat purred her approval.


	30. What Mallory Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Trevelyan, sit-rep! And none of those half-answers and vague explanations you’ve had Moneypenny feeding me the last three months!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday! It's been a long week! 
> 
> Here's a BONUS chapter for all of our dedicated readers. Thank you so much for continuing to follow, read, comment, bookmark, and subscribe to this story. You're absolutely fabulous!
> 
> Tension starts to ramp up in a different way in this chapter. Do let us know what you think. <3

“He’s doing better Eve. He really is. Not there yet, though.” Alec stood out on the porch with a cuppa. Even though it was Moneypenny, this was a conversation he had stalled off making as long as he possibly could, and today was his absolute, drop-dead, last day to call. He knew Mallory was pressing her for more information, and it was putting her in an awkward position the longer he waited. 

“Finding Grace Mikelson has made a world of difference. The meds Osler had him on were cooking his brain. Would never have come this far if things had continued like that.” Alec glanced through the kitchen window to see Q feeding Cat, the two carrying on a conversation which consisted of her meowing and him cooing “cat” back at her. Alec couldn’t help but smile.

The full significance of Grace’s influence on and treatment of Q had come into sharp focus just the day before, in fact. 

“We’ve had a bit of a breakthrough.” Grace had said as Alec entered the cabin. He’d used the time during their session to tune up the ATV in the barn. With spring and summer approaching, he needed to make sure it was in perfect working order should they need to make a quick escape. He hung his coat on its hook next to El’s anorak as she nodded, smiling, at Ellery who sat on the floor in front of the telly. El was busy tossing a wadded up piece of paper to Cat who batted it about like a footie star before scoring a goal by knocking it back to her human, but he managed to spare a glance and a smile for Alec.

“Tell me about this breakthrough,” Alec replied, trying (and failing) not to puff up a bit at the look El had given him.

“He refused one of my treatment suggestions.”

Alec’s head jerked with confusion. “He refused … what did he refuse?”

“An MRI.”

The fuck?!

“Why? Does he need one? Do you think he’s ill?” A thousand and one worries suddenly filled Alec’s head but he pushed them back. Focus. Focus on the needs of your primary. 

“Sit down before you fall down.” She gestured for Alec to join her on the sofa, seeing quite through to his sudden worry. “No. I don’t believe he’s ill, but the MRI would allow me to see what’s going on inside his head from a structural standpoint. Detect developmental anomalies, possible brain injuries, a mini-stroke. Help me try to figure out why his language center seems largely inaccessible to him and maybe why he drifts off as he does. Something is going on in there that’s not explained by what happened in Q-Branch.”

“And he refused.”

“A great, big, ole ‘CAT!’ of refusal!” Grace was beaming.

“How in the fuck is that a breakthrough?!” Alec demanded. He jumped up from the sofa and knelt next to Q. “El, if this is something that will help us help you, you need to do it.”

The untroubled aura that had enveloped Ellery disappeared in an instant. He leapt to his feet and the catting he rained down on Alec had made it painfully clear that an MRI was so not going to fucking happen.

Alec looked to Grace for help. “Why? I don’t understand.”

“He’s claustrophobic. Extremely so.” While Q stood next to the window with Cat in his arms glaring daggers at Alec, Grace went on to detail how Ellery had managed to communicate his fear to her during their session.

“What about sedation? It would make it easier for him to go in, wouldn’t it?”

“Stop that, Ellery Kildale! No hitting! I don’t care if it’s with a pillow or not. No. Put it down! You’re not five years old,” Grace sighed. “Alec the test would be diagnostically helpful, but it’s not medically critical. I’m not going to sedate Ellery against his will so he’ll submit to the test. And that’s the breakthrough. He _chose !_ I presented him with the options, sedation was among them, and he made an informed decision. You may not like his choice, but it is _his_ choice. He's clearly capable of consenting or refusing, and he refused. I have to abide by that.”

Alec chewed on that for a moment. So much of his worry about a personal relationship with Ellery revolved around consent. It wasn’t their only issue, but it was one of the bigger ones. Alec plopped back onto the floor where Ellery had been sitting, relief tugging at those particular knots until they hung slack in his mind and heart. “It’s more than a breakthrough,” he said at last. He had eyes only for Ellery. “It’s bloody marvellous!” 

Grace turned her attention back to Q. “Ellery. Look at me, please. I think you’ve probably killed Alec twice over with that glare. He’s not going to force you any more than I am, you know that, but I can see why he asked. Since we’re on the subject, though, I need to ask you another question about your treatment.” 

Q growled -- growled! -- once at Alec, clearly still peeved at the suggestion he be sedated. Alec knew he’d answer for that in the coming days, a piper he’d gladly pay for the tune, but finally, Ellery turned his gaze on Grace.

“You didn’t really have a say in choosing me as your psychiatrist,” she said, “and while I think we get on quite well, I need to know if this isn’t working for you. If I’m not what you think you need, I will do whatever is necessary to find you someone who is. So will Alec.” 

Alec had long since perfected the art of holding his breath without making it look like he was holding his breath. From his perspective, Grace had worked sodding miracles with Ellery, but she was right. If he could refuse an MRI after being given the options, El needed to have a say in this, too.

Ellery nuzzled Cat’s neck, looking at each of them from between her ears. Clearly thinking about what Grace had asked him. Deciding. Then he passed Cat to Alec, who winced when the beast dug her claws deep into his thigh for his crimes against her human, and climbed onto the sofa next to Grace. Sitting cross-legged, El took her hand in his, kissed the centre of her open palm, and then pressed it to the side of his head.

Neither she nor Alec needed the accompanying indebted ‘cat’ to know Ellery approved of her treatment. 

“I’m glad Alec,” Moneypenny said, bringing him back to the present conversation. “Not sure it’s going to be enough to satisfy M though. Getting a tad antsy to have his Quartermaster back.” Eve had mentioned he was meeting with Tanner at the moment, and she was hoping he stayed that way until Alec was off the phone. “Osler still wants you drawn and quartered. Appears at least once a week to bitch and moan.”

“He can fuck off!” Alec snapped. He had a deep, resounding hatred for the man. If Osler had been in charge of Q’s care, Ellery would be long since dead. 

“Oh! Speaking of bitching and moaning, you’ll never guess who rang the other ...” but Moneypenny never finished her sentence. Alec heard the door to M’s office opened at this most inopportune moment. 

“Moneypenny, I need you to...” Mallory began. “Oh, didn’t see you on the phone.” 

“It’s Agent Trevelyan reporting in.”

“The fuck?!, Moneypenny! “ Alec hissed when he heard Eve say, “Here you are, sir.” Clearly passing the phone to M. 

“Trevelyan, sit-rep! And none of those half-answers and vague explanations you’ve had Moneypenny feeding me the last three months. I want _specific_ details on Q’s progress and a timeline on when I can expect to get my Quartermaster back,” Mallory demanded. “This shell game you’ve been playing is _not_ what I agreed to.”

Alec paused. He could just hang up, but would that bring the hunting dogs after them?

“ _Now_ , 006!”

“Yes, sir.” _Be careful what you wish for, though, M_ , he thought, deciding to give Mallory a bit of what he wanted.

Without revealing her name, Alec spent the next 15 minutes detailing for Mallory Grace’s assessment of Q’s recovery and provided a statement of his own observations. All of it carefully constructed to give just enough information to make the man happy without compromising Ellery or setting any kind of hard deadlines. He got the distinct impression Mallory was getting pressure from those higher up the food chain about the expected return of two, high value MI6 assets, and while he did feel a moment of sympathy for the man -- the Foreign Secretary was a complete tit, after all -- Alec’s only concern was in protecting Ellery.

“R has a project on which she needs Q’s input and help. It’s not time-critical, _yet_ , but we have to have his eyes on it. When can he be ready to assist?”

Inside the cabin, Cat was chasing the dot of a laser pointer they had found in the glove box of the Explorer. Alec had a hard time reconciling his mental picture of The Quartermaster: Technological Overlord of Q-Branch with the mostly non-verbal Ellery currently sat perched on the arm of the sofa, entertaining his cat with a bit of technology so rudimental it could barely qualify _as_ technology.

“I’d like to get his psychiatrist’s input on this before I commit Q one way or the other. I’ll get back with Moneypenny in a few days.”

“A reasonable precaution but check-in no later than Friday next. That’s an order, 006. Confirm order.”

Alec kept his sigh very much a mental one, but he finished sipping his tea before answering. “Order confirmed, sir. Friday next.”

“I’m sorry, Alec, he was out of his office sooner than expected,” Eve said when she got back on the line, “and I figured giving him the chance to actually _talk_ to you might pacify him for a tad longer than my reports.”

“The fuck, Moneypenny?! M wants him assisting R on a project!”

“I heard. Is there _any_ way?”

“I dunno. Maybe.” Alec rubbed his face, considering. It had been four days since Cat’s arrival, and Ellery still spent at least half his waking hours in his other world but not as firmly entrenched in it as before. Alec was certain Cat was instrumental in making sure Q kept at least one foot in this one. 

Kisses had a positive effect, too, apparently, for whenever Ellery returned after one of his stays ‘away’, he looked at Alec as though seeing him after a long absence and leaned in for a welcome, lingering kiss ‘hello.’ Alec was happy to oblige.

“Actually, he’s been researching computer components for a laptop,” Alec admitted. “Found his wish list on one of the tabs on the iPad. Looks like he’s included everything from the chassis to the tools needed to build the thing from the ground up. Might as well buy him what he wants and see what happens.” 

The next day, Alec spoke with Grace about M’s request. 

She shrugged. “At this point, it could go either way,” Grace began. She was boxing up the rest of the vanilla bean scones for Alec to take home. After their session, Ellery had fallen on the pastries like he’d never eaten before. “The searching and looking at the computer parts online, well... that’s just a part of who he is. Or was. Almost innate from what you’ve indicated about him before his break. Actually working on a project with your employer, it could bring all the stress back. Force him deeper into wherever he goes when he’s hiding. I don’t have all the answers for you. Ellery is... Ellery. Unique and complicated.”

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Alec stewed about it for the rest of the day. 

Conundrum. 

Two days later a UPS delivery of boxes from Newegg and CDW sat in Grace’s shop; Q circled around them like a panther ready to pounce. 

“Well if you want to play with your new toys, you’re going to have to help load them.” Alec couldn’t help but smile at Q’s obvious interest at what was inside the boxes.

“Alec...” Grace called after them as they headed out the door, balancing stacks of boxes. “Let him do this at his own pace. Call if you need me.”

Once they were back at the cabin, Q and Cat sorted all the bits and pieces from each box once and then again. Q would hold up a part to the feline, declare “Cat” as if he was explaining its construction and purpose to her before moving onto the next one and repeating the process. This went on for over an hour until Q seemed to have all the components arranged to his satisfaction and his focus began to wane. 

Alec noticed him starting to drift away and managed to coax Ellery to the sofa, fearful it had been a tad too much for him. Cat followed and demanded her spot on his lap.

Dinner that night was simple, a charcuterie board of sorts Alec set on the table in front of the sofa: hard salami and slices of ham, grapes and apple slices, olives and pickles, cubes of cheese and crackers. Simple finger foods El could eat without needing too much focus. 

They watched episodes of _PeeWee’s Playhouse_ and _The Great British Bake-Off_ together with Alec offering a running commentary on the latter, though Ellery seemed gone more often than not.

Not a single “Cat” was uttered all night. 

It was early when they went to bed, and though Q curled up in Alec’s arms, it seemed more instinctive than deliberate. Alec kissed Ellery’s forehead and pulled him closer still, trying to put the fear and worry out of his mind, but even Cat on her pillow looked at Q with what seemed to be concern. 

Alec woke with a start.

His arms were empty.

The bed next to him was cold.

Ellery and Cat were gone.

Alec leapt from the bed, weapon in hand, and scrambled down the corridor to the stairs. He had no idea how long Q had been gone. He’d not left the bed in the middle of the night since the time Alec found him outside, weeping in the snow.

Tonight was going to be the coldest night of the season, the forecast said.

Christ!

Alec took the last three stairs as one, grabbing hold of the newel on the banister to brace him as he rounded the bottom of the staircase. 

“Ellery!” His shout preceded him into the kitchen. He was headed for the door and the -- 

Alec nearly tripped over himself, he stopped so quickly.

For there was Q sound asleep with his face flush on the kitchen table. Anti-static computer component bags were scattered about him and on the floor next to his chair. He still held a small screwdriver in his left hand that rested next to his face. It was dangerously close to poking his eye out.

Cat, too, was asleep, curled up at the far end of the large table.

A newly built laptop running a diagnostic programme sat on the table between them.

* * *

[ Vanilla Bean Scones ](https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ree-drummond/mini-vanilla-scones-with-vanilla-bean-glaze-recipe-2042517)

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't miss the recipe for Vanilla Bean Scones that had Q so over the moon.


	31. Technology Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of his computer build, Alec had carried him back to bed, still asleep. Ellery had slept the next day away, not even rousing to meet with Grace. It was the first session he’d ever missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturday Update! It's a shorter one, but Tuesday's will make up for it three-fold.
> 
> Is Q coming back to his old self, or is the pressure still too great?
> 
> As ever, thank you for the comments. We will try to respond to some of them in the coming days. Some of you may be mind-readers. :)

“Everything is ready on this end, Alec,” Eve said, her voice coming through the system Q had devised to allow him to communicate with his team in Q-Branch without risking their whereabouts in Devil’s Gulch being discovered. It was a complex contraption Alec didn’t even try to understand involving a small speaker set, their new satellite phone, the iPad, and tangle of other things he didn’t recognise.

‘Communicate’ was a loose term, however. “R, remember, Q can hear you but don’t expect him to respond to any of your questions,” Alec said.

“Understood, 006,” R replied, the ambient sounds of Q-Branch in the background filtered in with the sound of her voice. “Ready whenever you are, Quartermaster.” Alec stiffened slightly at the title and glanced at Q to see his response to the sobriquet he hadn’t heard in months, a name laden with pressure and responsibility.

And trauma.

“With you shortly, R.” Alec muted the sat phone. Q seemed largely unaffected by the situation thus far. He was sat at the short end of the kitchen table, fingers resting lightly on the keyboard of his new laptop. 

“Ellery.” Q did not respond. His eyes seemed focused somewhere just beyond the top edge of his screen.

Cat meeped from her spot next to the comm system and rolled over on her back, looking at Q upside down as if the new perspective might give her insight into her human’s odd behaviour the last few days.

The night of his computer build, Alec had carried him back to bed, still asleep. Ellery had slept the next day away, not even rousing to meet with Grace. It was the first session he’d ever missed. 

“He’s a bit feverish.” Grace had said, resting the back of her hand against Q’s flushed brow. “He’s built himself quite the nest in here.” And that really had been the best description for the current state of their bed. Ellery was nestled deeply beneath the duvets from all three bedrooms and more pillows than Alec could remember being in the cabin. Though how and when Q had managed to do it, Alec couldn’t begin to guess. It was the cart ghost all over again. Cat, of course, was always at his side.

Grace checked his pulse and listened to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope from the medical kit she kept at the shop. The Navy hospital corpsman she had started as would always be a part of her. 

“It’s possible he picked up a bug, but I think it’s more likely he exhausted himself with all the excitement this last week: the Festival, Cat’s arrival, starting to speak again. Building the computer was a significant step for him, too. It’s all emotionally draining, so there’s going to be a trade-off. This is probably it,” Grace determined, gesturing at the sleeping boffin who never even twitched whilst being examined. “I know you’ll keep an eye on him, so if his fever gets worse or he doesn’t rouse by evening to eat, drink, or pee, call Dr. Webb. Remember, Phyllis said she’d be willing to make house calls for Ellery if you felt the stress of going to the medical center would be too much.”

By nightfall, however, Q had woken enough to use the loo, drink some water, and eat a bit of the beef stew Alec had started in the slow cooker that morning. He fell back to sleep shortly thereafter, again buried beneath the pile blankets. 

Alec spent that night in a well-cushioned armchair at the side of the bed, ostensibly unwilling to disturb the nest, in reality, so he could keep vigil. 

The next morning Ellery shuffled into the kitchen in his pajamas. Glasses slightly askew, he was wrapped in a duvet with mismatched socks barely clinging to his feet. Plopping down at the table, he rested his cheek on the closed lid of his new laptop and peered first at the coffee pot and then at Alec from the folds of the blanket.

Though rather pathetic in many regards, his plaintive, “Caaattt,” was also one sweetest sound to Alec’s ears. 

Q had his coffee moments later. French toast with bacon soon followed.

They spent the day quietly, watching crap telly with Cat, interrupted only by Alec’s perimetre checks and meals, but as the day spun itself out, Alec had no choice but to address the question of Ellery helping R with her project. Tomorrow was Mallory’s deadline.

Alec made it clear he would deny Mallory’s request if Q wanted nothing to do with it. Courtesy of Eve, he had ammunition from Q’s HR file that he would use, if necessary, to keep M off their backs, but Ellery indicated he was willing to try. 

As the day of the remote assist drew closer, however, Ellery withdrew more and more into his private world. When Alec suggested to Ellery during one of his lucid periods that he was going to call Eve to cancel, Q responded with an indignant, “CAT!” turned on his heel and stormed from the spare room where he had been tending his herbs.

Alec looked sideways at Cat who’d witnessed the whole exchange. “Well, that was a pretty clear ‘Fuck off!’ I think.”

Cat meowed her agreement and chomped down on the lemon verbena.

But now R was waiting on the other end of the line, and Q seemed to be gone again.

Alec looked at Grace who stood at the kitchen counter, coffee cup in hand. She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

He reached out and gently tapped Q’s chin. “El? Ellery, look at me please.” 

As if pulling himself from a vat of treacle, Ellery blinked hard and slowly turned to look at Alec. Behind his specs, Q’s eyes were as clear and sharp as flawless emeralds. 

He leaned up and caught Alec’s mouth in a quick but pointed kiss and smiled. And though Q’s “Cat” was only loud enough for Alec’s ears, it’s meaning was clear.

Let’s do this.  
  
  


* * *

  
[Grand Marnier French Toast ](https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/grand-marnier-french-toast-715)  
  
  
Dassandre's mother makes this for Christmas Morning brunch every year, and it's bloody amazing! The overnight soak in eggy goodness makes all the difference. It's wonderful with brioche, too.  
  
  


  
  
  



	32. Remote Assist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Alec could unmute the phone, Q’s fingers were dancing across his keyboard. Windows appeared and disappeared, shoved aside as another slid up next to it. Symbols scrolled across the screen and scripts ran in coding languages that made no sense to Alec at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I (Dassandre) had a rather stressful Sunday evening, and Mondays are, well, Mondays -- always a bit shite -- so I made the executive decision (sorry, Boffin, but you'll probably forgive me) to post this a day early. The simple fact of the matter is your comments are huge bright spots in our days, and many of you have indicated reading this story has the same effect on you. So, yes, your comments would be lovely. We'll make Monday a bit brighter all around. We're personally quite fond of this chapter, and we think you'll like it, too. It's a big one.

Q’s fingers danced across his keyboard. Windows appeared and disappeared, shoved aside as another slid up next to it. Symbols scrolled across the screen and scripts ran in coding languages that made no sense to Alec at all.

Grace watched in astonishment, clearly surprised at what was buried beneath the outer layer of the nonverbal Ellery she saw every day. 

Different access screens appeared in various languages. Some Alec knew. Others he didn’t. Then a login screen popped up in Mandarin. He couldn’t read it, but he recognised it. It was then Alec finally twigged to what Q was doing. 

“I doubt you’re supposed to be in there, you little shite.” Alec held his breath as Q logged in then moved on to somewhere else, accessing satellite feed after satellite feed. 

Within a few minutes, the familiar, secure access login screen of MI6 appeared. The Quartermaster was back in his own domain where he reigned as Supreme Cyber Overlord. Q glanced up at Alec with a look that could have only been interpreted as “well...what are you waiting for....”

“R...” Alec unmuted the call, “I think he’s ready.”

“So I see. Welcome _back,_ Quartermaster!” Alec cringed when she called him that again. The young man sitting in front of him, even with a laptop at hand, was no longer the Quartermaster they had worked with for so long.

MI6 just didn’t know it yet. 

“Q... Project Seaward Gains... data retrieval,” R continued. “You wanted it implemented by the end of the first quarter. You laid the basis for it but then assigned it to myself and Chaudhuri before you... well… _before_...” R stumbled on her words realizing the awkwardness of her comment. Going somewhere she felt she should not have gone. 

Alec stepped up, ready to mute the call again at the slightest twinge from Q, but Grace motioned him to wait, wanting to see how this played out. Q’s fingers never stopped moving on the keyboard as he moved through the necessary files on the MI6 servers. Focussed solely on the project at hand, he seemed unaffected by R’s gaff.

“We’re having issues with the close and the executables,” R managed to backtrack, saving the awkward moment. “There seem to be issues between 22478 and 33014 that sometimes lags, and we can’t find the reason. Also at 66034 to 68723. Will you...”

And before she could finish her request, there was an empathetic “Cat” and eye roll from Q and he was off to the chase.

“I didn’t quite catch that...” R questioned. 

“Never mind.” Alec quickly jumped in, hoping she hadn’t _really_ heard Q. “He’s chasing it, R. Going to mute you again. Will check in occasionally.”

Alec and Grace watched attentively. Grace refilled their coffee cups countless times during the adventure into coding and kept the sweets and snacks close at hand. 

“Alec, watch his expression and concentration,” Grace spoke quietly at one point, trying to not distract Q. “There is so much more of him trapped inside than I think we’ve suspected. Given his outward and mental states … Alec, I’ve never seen _anyone_ work as he does with such complex coding. It’s amazing!”

Q worked for four hours straight with Alec sliding cups of coffee and snacks to him, which he took without thought. 

Finally, going into the fifth hour, Q slumped back into his chair and closed the laptop with weary “Caaattt.” Alec could tell by the look in his eyes, El was drifting away, exhausted, unable to hold his footing in the here and now any longer. 

“That’s it. Enough. He’s exhausted. Anything else you need doing, you’re going to have to do yourself, R. I’m taking Q offline,” Alec said when he unmuted the phone. Grace was knelt at Ellery’s side, checking his pulse. 

There was a long pause at the other end of the line, and for a moment Alec thought they’d lost connection, and then finally, “... no, it’s … it’s working _perfectly_ now. We’ll just need to test it before using it live, but … he _did_ it. I’d forgotten … It's been so long since we’ve worked together on any kind of project like this. I mean, I _know_ what he can do but to actually watch it unfold ... He’s a bloody artist, is what he is.” The awe in R’s voice was tangible. 

Alec watched as Grace encouraged their ‘artist’ to drink a glass of fruit juice she pressed into his hand, and he felt his ire grow. Ellery was so exhausted he could barely drink out of a fucking straw. Christ! When Alec considered the pressures and levels of stress that must have built up inside Q prior to his break -- that led to him putting a sodding gun to his head and damn near pulling the trigger -- Alec’s blood grew cold at the notion.

“Welcome back, Quartermaster,” R finished.

“No!” Alec jumped up from his chair and braced his hands on either side of the comm system on the table. “Mallory, that is absolutely _not_ happening!”

“Uhhh … Agent Trevelyan, Mallory’s not here,” R said from the other end of the line.

“The fuck he’s not. Turn down the chance to watch the results of his experiment? I don’t think so. Waiting to see if his trained Quartermaster can still perform his tricks or not. Well, I’m telling you right now, the _Quartermaster_ is _not_ back, nor will he be anytime soon.”

“Hardly your call, 006.”

Mallory.

“I think it is my call, M. You’re there. I’m here. With the Quartermaster. “

“006...” Mallory cautioned sternly. 

Grace threw a pencil to get his attention. “Alec... calm. Be logical,” she mouthed to him. 

“No!” he snarled at Mallory, ignoring Grace’s warning. “You can’t see how drained he is!”

“Your point can go both ways, 006. I can’t see him because you absconded with him. The Service has no true way to know or observe the Quartermaster’s progress other than taking your word for it.”

“I can’t imagine the stress and strain that Q was under that pushed him to put a gun to his head. This. Is. Your. Fault! It’s on your head, M!” Alec threw right back at him. “You owe him!” 

The longer the conversation went on, the more Alec’s anger grew. 

“How many hours of leave time does Six owe him? Vacation days... sick days... I’ll bet you don’t know. But I do!”

“Alec....” Desperate to get his attention, Grace had forgotten their decision that she stay silent through this process to protect her and their location. 

“Who is that, 006? No one else is sanctioned to observe this remote assist.” M’s voice was level, calm but an underlying tone of anger was starting to creep in. 

“I felt it was in Q’s best interest to have his psychiatrist here as a precaution in case there was an issue. And I’m so glad I did. She’s fully vetted, so don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Grace rolled her eyes. 

“At least I’m looking out for him, contrary to other people.” Alec snarled. 

“006, I’m warning you--” Mallory began but Alec interrupted him. 

“Twenty-four thousand, one hundred and seventy-seven.”

There was a notable pause on the other end of the line. Then, “I beg your pardon?”

“Twenty-four thousand, one hundred and seventy-seven,” Alec repeated. He had been _shocked_ by the number Eve had given him from Human Resources. “Q’s hours of accrued leave, if you’re searching for context, M. That’s two years, nine months, and 11 days … oh, and 13 hours, if you want to be precise. Leave that Q is legally _entitled_ to take.”

Silence.

Alec crouched at Q’s side and cupped the man’s face in his hand. Ellery closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. He was nearly boneless with exhaustion. “It never mattered what time, day or night, I made contact, Q was there to take the call,” he continued. “To assist me with whatever I needed. How many other agents did he do that for? How many nights did he sleep in his office instead of going home? In his 15 years moving up through the Service, how many holidays were cut short or cancelled because of some crisis? How many days off were interrupted because an operation went tits up or he needed to remote in because someone was pounding the firewalls? Six did this to him, Mallory. _You_ did this to him and Mansfield before you. Chewed Q up and spit him out and then had the fucking gall to be surprised when he broke under the pressure.”

“The Quartermaster is an essential SIS asset to be recalled from any leave as determined by the head of the agency.” Mallory’s voice was calm, measured, and had grown colder than the wind blowing through the pines outside the cabin’s windows. He was livid. 

So was Alec. “Christ man! He’s not an indentured servant whose life is dictated by the needs and whims of the Service. He isn’t the first Quartermaster, so why do you insist he be the _only_ ?! You mortgaged Q’s future, his _life_ against his need to serve his country and protect his agents. He’s the most loyal of _any_ of us. How was he repaid? By putting him in a position where he thought his only choice was to put a bullet in his brain.” Ellery’s eyes popped open, and though glazed and distant, Alec could see in them Q had heard and understood what he had just said. 

Alec felt ill.

“Q knew what he was getting into when he signed on to be Quartermaster,” Mallory stated, enforcing his position. “He knew what the job entailed. He was Boothroyd’s R, after all.”

“You and I both know the job is _nothing_ like what it was when the Major was Quartermaster!” Alec still knelt next to Q watching his distant eyes change, still unfocused but growing painfully sad. At that moment, Grace’s phone she hardly ever used buzzed once on the table. 

“If you force him to come back now, Mallory,” Alec was beyond giving him the respect of his title, “this will happen again. What if someone like me isn’t there the next time? Are you going to be the one to scrape Q’s brains off the floor?” 

Q flinched, pulling away from Alec. “I see you, El…” Alec whispered to him. “I’m here.”

Alec regretted having to say those words in front of Ellery, but Mallory needed to hear them, and he would not regret that. 

“Gentleman, when you two are done acting like two Tomcats pissing over their territory, I believe I have the ultimate say in this situation,” Grace spoke up, interrupting their feuding. 

“Who are you, and what makes you think this is your concern?” Mallory demanded. 

“I am the Quartermaster’s psychiatrist and primary physician,” Grace stated calmly, firmly, but in a voice that wasn’t quite her own.

 _Oh, she’s good_ , Alec thought, for Grace’s speech had taken on a distinct Persian accent. He knew she was fluent in Dari from the three tours she spent in Afghanistan. She was using that knowledge now to help keep their location secret. To keep them safe. Her American accent would have been a dead give away. 

“It is my professional opinion that the Quartermaster is not fit to return to duty in his current state, and according to your own employment agreements and Medical rulings, the Quartermaster has a right to recuperate and take leave according to the dictates of his primary physician in a location of his choosing.

“How do you...”

“Would you like me to quote sections and subsections to you? I’d be more than happy to do so. I have it right in front of me.” She gestured with her mobile, though only Alec and Ellery could see it.

“You don’t have any jurisdiction over the Quartermaster’s needs and health,” Mallory stated, but voices could be heard in the background behind him. “What, Tanner?” and ... “Are you sure?” followed by ... “It was set up by Q. Did you really think we could?”...

“I have been completely vetted and have authorization that contradicts your statement. I am more than willing to involve MI6’s sister agencies, if necessary, to drive my point home. Do you really want the CIA, the DGSE, or the BND to know your Quartermaster is out of commission or out from under MI6’s jurisdiction?” she asked, using the fears and warnings Alec had shared with her about The Quartermaster’s value to her advantage. “What do you think their reactions will be knowing his genius might be within _their_ borders instead of yours? And if they find out, how long do you think it will be before more ... less _reputable_ people will know, too.”

“I don’t appreciate your attempts at blackmail, Doctor.” M was fuming.

“I will do whatever is necessary to protect the health and welfare of my patient.” Grace’s voice was calm, cold, and resolute. 

“Not a promising prospect is it, Mallory. “ Alec interjected, turning his attention back to Ellery. “They’ll know Six is vulnerable without the Quartermaster. How quickly do you think your house of cards will fall then?”

There was silence on the other end of the call. Finally. “What are your recommendations, Doctor?” Alec wasn’t convinced that Mallory was asking because of concern for Q, only for his own agenda. 

“He is to remain in his current location under my care. He is nowhere near ready to work. He has made some progress but that is tenuous. Pressure now could set him right back to where he was after his break or take him someplace worse with no hope for recovery. I am willing to provide you with a detailed report of my observations, current treatment, and prognosis.” 

“I’ll expect that report in the next 24 hours before I even begin to consider--”

“There is nothing for you to _consider_ . The physician’s medical opinion supersedes all others. And think twice before attempting to order _me_ around, Director Mallory.” Alec couldn’t help but smile. This was _Admiral_ Grace Mickelson speaking. She would not have risen as far as she had in the Navy without this ‘take no shite attitude’. It was beautiful to behold. Alec almost found himself responding to the authority in her voice.

Almost.

“At the direction of his medical proxy, Agent Trevelyan,” Grace continued, nodding at Alec, “The Quartermaster is recovering and seeking treatment at my facility. A _private_ facility. Though I have been vetted and my credentials confirmed by the SIS, I do not work for it, or for you. I offer the report as a professional _courtesy_.”

Grace’s challenge was met with silence. Alec could practically see Mallory pacing a line in front of the massive screen in Q-Branch, determining what to do next. How to respond. It was a game of chess, and Alec was the black rook guarding his king. 

He made his next move.

“If you try to force this, Q and I will go dark. Sever contact with everyone. Even Moneypenny. I’ll take him so far under, you won’t even see his shadow.” Grace gripped his shoulder but in solidarity, not warning: the black queen, still in play. “And you know I have the skills to do it.”

The silence continued, the tension palpable through five thousand miles of land and ocean, then they heard Tanner prompt, “Sir?” and finally …

“Fine. I will cede to your medical expertise and opinion, Doctor,” Mallory said, though the ‘for now’ was clear to them all. “I would request, however, regular _medical_ updates on The Quartermaster’s progress and recovery. Agent Trevelyan’s reports have been decidedly thin when it comes to concrete details.”

“ _Bale,”_ Alec recognised the Dari word for ‘yes’, “I will be happy to provide you with a report of my observations once a fortnight. The first will be in your hands within three days,” Grace said.

“That is … acceptable.” Everyone knew it was not, but what was Mallory to do?

Then Grace delivered her _coup de gras_. “You should be aware that Agent Trevelyan is also under my care. He, too, apparently has extensive leave accrued, and it is my medical opinion that he makes use of that leave to tend to his own recovery from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.” 

Mallory began to sputter.

“Won’t see my shadow, either,” Alec said, reminding Mallory of the previous threat. He spared a grin for Grace at his side. It was not without risk, what she was doing, what she _had_ been doing all this time, and Alec had no idea how he’d ever repay her for it all. For Ellery. For him, too. They were bloody lucky to have found her. 

Alec disconnected the call.

When the connection terminated, Mallory slammed a fist down on R’s workstation causing the boffin to jump. “Whose idea was it to let that psychotic agent run off with our Quartermaster?” Moneypenny and Tanner looked at each other and then at him. 

“Don’t say it!” Mallory jabbed a finger at them before turning his growing anger at R. “Where are they?” R shrugged at him and another tech started to say something but Mallory cut him off. “You were connected for over five hours. You’re going to sit there and tell me you have nothing at all?! What do I pay you for?!”

“He may not be at his best, but he _is_ the Quartermaster, Sir. All his skills are still there. He could hide in the next room, and we’d never know if he didn’t want us to find him. The last bounce we were able to trace was through a Chinese satellite, and I’m sure he hijacked it. After that... who knows?”

“And we’re supposed to be a cutting edge intelligence agency...” Mallory huffed in frustration. 

“The woman’s voice. Persian accent, likely Dari. Surely not someplace in the Middle East. He wouldn’t have, would he?” Tanner suggested. 

“Trevelyan wouldn’t dare!” Mallory was beginning to pace. His normal, never ruffled attitude was crumbling quickly. 

He came to an abrupt halt and turned directly to Moneypenny. “You are far too quiet during all of this. What do you know, Moneypenny? You’re Trevelyan’s only point of contact. You probably know where they are.”

Moneypenny took a deep breath, “Even if I did have that information, I can’t divulge it, sir. Not even to you. You knew that when this started. That’s why both you and Trevelyan agreed to me serving as PoC. The oath I swore to the Service, in this instance, prohibits me from saying anything. To do otherwise would be considered treason against the Crown, and you cannot compel me.” Moneypenny stood firm in her oath, refusing to back down to Mallory. “The only thing I will say, sir, is that when 006 says he will go dark and you’ll never see either of them again, he means it. And... he _is_ capable of doing it.”

“Keep searching,” Mallory ordered R and Tanner. “You and I are going to have a long chat when this is all over, Moneypenny. They’re probably two bloody blocks away, and we can’t find them!”

Moneypenny watched Mallory storm out of Q Branch with Tanner in his wake. It wasn’t until the doors closed that she pulled out her phone again and sent another text message:   
  
  


_Well, wasn’t that fun?_

_Tell Alec, Bond resurfaced out from under the rock he has been hiding under._

_Phoned in. “Just to chat”._

_As if anyone would believe that shite._

> 


	33. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not only did I get my arse kicked by a gaggle of little old ladies but now I get to do manual labour thanks to Ellery.” Alec pulled out his gift certificate for three hours of garden tiller rental from his pocket. One of the ‘gifts’ for Alec Ellery had bid on at the Winter Festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! Such amazing comments for the last chapter! It seems the plan for us all to work together to make Monday just a tad brighter worked. You, our lovely readers, got a chapter you all seem to have enjoyed, and we got some much-needed feedback to pump us up. Thank you, ever so!
> 
> Now for Tuesday's regularly scheduled update. Yes, Dart. It's truly Tuesday now. We promise. 💕

Alec powered down the laptop and hefted Ellery into his arms. “Disconnect everything,” he said to Grace with a nod at Q’s contraptions. “Make sure nothing is on or has power running to it.” Paranoid, perhaps, but Alec didn’t want to take any chances. Not with Q clearly out of commission.

Alec carried El upstairs. His skin abnormally chilled, Alec warmed and washed him in the shower as he had done that night he found Q on the porch, bundling him into fresh pajamas and into bed by the time Grace arrived with a mug of broth she had heated on the stove. Ellery managed to sip about half of it through a straw before he succumbed to his exhaustion. Alec and Cat again kept vigil with Grace sleeping in the room down the hall, close to hand should she be needed.

Q’s recovery followed the same pattern as before -- fever, hours upon hours of sleep, listless and completely nonverbal when awake -- though much slower this time. “The strain was greater,” Grace reminded Alec when she left the morning after the remote. “Give him time.”

Alec did.

It was horrible.

On the morning of the third day, Ellery came down the stairs wrapped in his duvet as before with mismatched socks clinging to his feet, plopped his face on the kitchen table, and demanded coffee with a plaintive, “Caaaattttt!”

Alec made him a full English, too.

The next weeks passed much as they had prior to their encounter with Six: trips to the shops, plenty of crap telly, and giving more attention to Cat than she probably deserved. Ellery and Alec still saw Grace every day, each of them for their unique brand of therapy. Alec’s epiphany that he _had_ , in fact, been under her care just as long as Q had him unloading three boxes of ammunition with his Sig into the trunk of a dead pine tree behind the cabin one freezing morning, but Alec didn’t discontinue their afternoon chats over coffee, and Grace knew better than to ever call them ‘sessions’.

There were a few notable differences, though. The sea of community that Grace had introduced him to the night of the Winter Festival started washing up at his feet, and even if Alec had wanted to hide Ellery away, he was quickly disabused of that notion by the people of Devil’s Gulch who were led by their very insistent queen, Miriam Mikelson.

Two days after Grace declared Q ‘recovered’ from his ordeal with Six, Alec and Ellery were invited to ‘Tea with The Ladies.’

“Think of it more as a royal summons. This is one request you don’t want to ignore,” Grace told him when she passed on the invitation, hand-written in a graceful script on stationary as elegant as that he’d seen come out of Buckingham Palace. “You’ll need fifty dollars. In quarters. And another fifty if you think Ellery will play.”

‘Tea with the Ladies’ wasn’t entirely incorrect. There _was_ tea. Plenty of it as Ellery had been quite content to observe the proceedings and keep the kettle on the boil, but it was one of the most cutthroat poker games Alec had ever been a part of, including one in Shanghai with the head of the Lotus Union triad. 

Miriam cleaned him out. Not only did he leave fifty dollars poorer but she’d managed to wrangle an IOU out of him, too. He and Ellery would be escorting Miriam to the high school’s chili supper next month.

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Bob Gibson told him the next day. Q had finally indicated it was time to put his plans for a garden into action, so they’d popped into town to the hardware store for supplies to start his seedlings. “At least she’s giving you a chance to win your money back next week.” 

“Not only did I get my arse kicked by a gaggle of little old ladies but now I get to do manual labour thanks to Ellery.” Alec pulled out his gift certificate for three hours of garden tiller rental from his pocket. One of the ‘gifts’ for Alec Ellery had bid on at the Winter Festival. 

Bob seemed to be distracted by something on his computer before he realised what Alec had said. “Tiller? Actually going to garden, then?”

“I have a choice?” he nodded towards Q who was farther down the aisle opposite, poking through a display of herb and garden plants that lined both sides. 

“Oh, you’re in trouble. Turned him loose with a cart, did you?” 

“Oh hell... where did he get that,” Alec sighed. It seemed the cart ghost had followed from the grocery store. He was doomed. 

“I’ll help you get that tiller in just a second. Need to try one more thing here,” Bob poked a few keys on the computer at the counter. “Damn thing! This is just not my area.”

“Having issues?” Alec commented. He tried to chat with Bob and keep one eye on Q at the same time, but Ellery had disappeared around a huge rack of greenery and was nowhere to be seen. 

“Christ, he’s on the loose. El?!” Alec headed off down the aisle. Bob chuckled but went down an adjacent one to head off Ellery if need be. 

They found Q in the greenhouse, nose deep in tomato plant seedlings. He’d already set aside cherry and heirloom plants and seemed to be deciding between Black Krim and Mr. Stripey, whatever those were. Alec surveyed the contents of the cart. Sweet pepper plants were balanced out with those that would produce ghost peppers. Alec _loved_ ghost peppers. Near the top of the Scoville scale for heat, he enjoyed the challenge of eating the little, red buggers. He couldn’t imagine how Ellery knew he liked them but didn’t question it. It just was. There was a wide variety of seed packets, too. Mostly flowers. Seemed like Q had plans for both a vegetable and a flower garden. 

“Doesn’t look too bad,” he said to Bob as Q placed his tomato selections carefully into the cart. “Seems reasonable.”

“Uh, Alec …” Bob pointed behind him. Alec turned.

“The fuck?!”

Three flat top trolleys were filled to overflowing. Two with more seedlings: lettuce, chard, cabbage (cannonball _and_ Chinese) snap peas, string beans, carrots (three different colours), cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, beets, cantaloupe, raspberries, blackberries, gooseberries, and three (no, four) different types of onion sets. 

The third trolley was heaped with potting soil, fertiliser, seedling trays, wooden trellises, and some things Alec had no idea what they were used for.

“Five minutes! I left you alone for five minutes! How in the bloody, buggering fuck did you manage to …”

He turned around and any frustration he felt evaporated. Ellery stood in front of him with a small bucket of purple pansies in his hands and that self-effacing smile on his face. His eyes were clear and focussed. He handed the bucket to Alec. A gift. Not from the cart ghost, this time.

“So … want me to ring you up?” Bob said with a chuckle. “I can arrange for it to be delivered, too. Don’t think you’ll fit it all in your Explorer.” 

Alec shook his head, bowing to the inevitable, and smiled. Fine. If Q wanted a garden, he was going to have a garden. Who was Alec to deny him, but he was beginning to feel like he was homesteading. 

“What do you know about building above ground planter boxes?” Bob glanced at the carts that overflowed with flowers and quickly jotted down what Ellery had pulled aside on a pad of paper he pulled from his apron pocket. “If you’d like, when I deliver the tiller tomorrow, I can help you build a few. You’re going to need them. Can’t today,” he said, walking with them back to the checkout counter. “Looks like I am going to be stuck here all day trying to update the computer’s inventory program.” Apparently, It needed to be up and working by Monday, and it was at least three weeks before Bob could get a tech out from the company to even walk him through a proper installation. 

Ellery pushed up against Alec’s side, running his fingers gently across Alec’s hand. Then he gripped Alec’s elbow. Patted his sleeve. Next, he tried tapping on the counter in front of them. All without ever making eye contact with Alec or Bob in his attempt to interrupt their conversation about the woes of help desks. 

“Inpatient are you?” Alec chuckled. “Wanting to get home to tend your new friends and introduce them to the others?” El had taken to cat babbling to his plants as he tended them, but apparently that wasn’t what Q was about just now. His fingers slowly crept across the counter to latch onto the instruction manual Bob was using to understand his new inventory system. 

“Oh…” Alec suddenly realised what had stirred Q’s attention. Slowly turning Q to face him, Alec placed two fingers under his chin. “Look at me, Ellery. Please.” It took a couple of moments, but he finally raised his face to meet Alec’s, instruction manual still gripped tightly in his hand. 

“Cat,” Q whispered, just barely audible, but Alec heard him. 

Alec studied him. 

Q’s finger twitched around the update instructions. 

“Are you positive?” Alec tapped his chin once more hoping his focus was still with him. Q’s free hand slowly snaked out. His fingers wound tightly into the cuff of Alec’s coat. 

“He wants to do your upgrade for you,” Alec stated matter of factly, turning back to Bob. 

Raised eyebrow, Bob looked a little shocked. “He what?” 

“Call Grace. She’ll vouch for him.” 


	34. Making Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know when this place sold, locals were glad it was an individual who bought it and not a vacation conglomerate. Too many of those around as it is. And then no one moved in. Sat empty for a couple of years. “ Alec sat silently and continued to eat, but he watched Bob, wondering where this conversation was heading.  
> “Word was that people thought someone came and went from here every once in a while, but no one was ever positive. Like a ghost lived here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Goodness, it's Thursday already! Here's the new update. :)
> 
> So many fabulous comments on the last chapter. It's always such a pleasure to see how our different readers are connecting with these characters and the story as a whole. It's just as important a journey for us as it seems to be for you. Brings us a great deal of comfort in these crazy times. We hope you enjoy the update. Another important OC is going to be fleshed out a bit. There's another recipe at the end, too. 
> 
> And of course, Cat!

“That ought to ‘bout do it for this stretch,” Bob shouted, powering down one of the two rear tine tillers he’d brought out to the cabin on a trailer attached to his Ford F-350 truck. Before he and Alec had left the hardware store the day before, Ellery had pulled out his iPad to show Bob the blueprints he’d made for his garden. The sheer size of his vision made it quite clear one machine wouldn’t be enough, especially not for earth that hadn’t been tilled before.

Alec finished his corner of the current plot and rested his back against the trunk of a nearby pine. It had been bollocks-busting work, even with the tillers, He was hot and sweaty, and his arms still trembled with the power of the machine even after he turned it off. Thankfully, the fair-weather they’d had the last several weeks had melted the majority of snow on the south side of the cabin and softened the earth a tad.

“So what’s next?” Alec asked. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders then drained what was left in his water bottle.

“After tilling, we fertilize. Then we wait.”

“Wait? For what? Shouldn’t things start going in the ground?”

Bob chuckled. “Spent some time in Britain when I was in the Army, so I know what your springs are like.”

“Cold and always pissing down rain.”

“Except when it’s not. They’re quite nice, and around here, cold’s a bit of a relative term.” Bob looked up at the clear sky, the wide, bright blue speckled with drifting puffs of white. “Might be the end of March, but this winter’s got at least two major storms left in her. Maybe even a blizzard. Rule of thumb in Colorado is not to plant anything until after Mother’s Day. Here in Devil’s Gulch, though, we go by the Rhubarb Pie Rule.”

“I’m sorry? The what?” Alec’s brows disappeared beneath his shaggy fringe.

“We don’t plant anything til after Miriam Mikelson makes her first rhubarb pie of the season. Woman’s got a sixth sense about gardening even though all she grows is rhubarb and prize-winning tomatoes. Only those who try to plant before that pie comes out of the oven every spring ever seem to lose their seedlings to frost or the late-season blizzard.” Bob gestured at the earth. “Once Miriam gives us the all-clear, I’ll come out and help with another quick till. Two weeks after that it should be safe for Ellery’s plants to go in the ground. He’s going to need boxes for some of those flowers, though.” 

As if on cue, Q and Cat, accompanied by his laptop, wandered out of the cabin. Side by side, the pair headed for the barn where Q had set up shop with his new seedlings. The south-facing bedroom now far too small for what he had planned. 

“How many times can he rearrange the layout of his plants?” Bob asked, eyes following the duo until they slipped through the barn door, out of sight. It was Q’s third visit to the barn since Bob arrived hours earlier.

“Oh, you have no idea... no _idea_.” Alec chuckled as he started up the tiller again. 

Once they were done, Bob and Alec headed to the barn to start on the flower boxes for Q’s growing foliage. Rather than tending his plants, Q was atop the ATV as if sitting on a throne with Cat, his Chancellor, curled up on a rack behind him, ready to give advice. Fingers moving across the keys of his laptop, he seemed oblivious to everything around him. 

“Ellery... what are you up to?” Alec had not seen him so engrossed on his computer since the project he had completed for MI6. Concerned, apprehensive, Alec stepped closer to see what he was doing. 

Alec stared at the screen, unsure what he was looking at. 

Bob came around to look, but he knew exactly what was on the screen. 

“Hey! That’s my inventory system! What the hell!?”

“Ellery! What are you doing?” Alec demanded. How the hell was he going to handle this? Bob hadn’t contacted Grace to vouch for Q’s abilities yet. Told Alec he planned to wait til Grace stopped by the cabin later, so …

Q looked up... at Bob... at Alec... and he beamed. “Cat!”

“Cat?” Bob glanced at Alec, more confused than ever, but then Ellery drew his attention back to the screen where the main page of the inventory system was displayed. He was manually entering SKU codes -- apparently from memory -- for each of the items they had purchased yesterday right down to the last Morning Glory seed pack, and they were actually being deducted from the stock Bob knew he had on hand.

“It’s working!”

Ellery looked up at him and smiled again, his fingers never slowing on the keyboard.

“I don’t have to enter all the codes manually, though, do I? That’ll take forever. Will the scanners deduct them automatically now?”

Q nodded and pointed at the threshold tally next to each item that would notify Bob when it was time to order replacement stock. 

Bob clapped Q on the shoulder. “Anything you want, Ellery. I was ready to ditch it all and start fresh. You just saved me nearly four thousand dollars for a new system and weeks of frustration.”

Q shook his head. “Cat.”

“You sure, El?” Alec asked. Q was about as selfless as they came, that had come across in everything he’d done as Quartermaster, but this was a tad different. “You’re a professional. This is what you do … in a sense. Bob wants to compensate you for that.”

Ellery frowned in thought and shrugged. 

“I’ve an idea,” Bob said. “Summers here are gorgeous, the nights especially. Your garden is going to be beautiful, but you don’t really have anywhere to sit and enjoy it other than what’s on the porch. What about a set of comfortable patio furniture and some decorative solar-powered lights so you can spend time in your garden, day or night? You can search online for something you’d, and I’ll order it for you.”

Ellery looked up at Bob and then again at Alec. His eyes were bright with pleasure.

“I think you’ve sold him on the idea, Bob.”

Grace arrived a short while later and took Ellery and Cat back to the cabin for their session, leaving behind a thermos of coffee, fresh bottles of water, and a tote containing sandwiches, crisps, and triple fudge brownies for Alec and Bob to enjoy whilst they started on the flower boxes.

Bob and Alec savoured the lunch first, deciding they had more than earned the break after being beaten up by the garden tillers. 

They ate in silence for a tad, looking out over the hills surrounding the cabin until Bob spoke up. “You know when this place sold, locals were glad it was an individual who bought it and not a vacation conglomerate. Too many of those around as it is. And then no one moved in. Sat empty for a couple of years. “ Alec sat silently and continued to eat, but he watched Bob, wondering where this conversation was heading. 

“Word was that people thought someone came and went from here every once in a while, but no one was ever positive. Like a ghost lived here.” 

Alec turned his eyes towards the mountains beyond the lake. He had just popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth when Bob finally spoke again.

“And then you and Ellery showed up. Moved in. Like you’ve always been here. Kinda odd, don’t you think, Alec?”

“Suppose it could look that way to some.” Alec liked Bob. He really did, but his Double-O senses were starting to tingle. 

“Mind if I ask about Ellery?”

Alec grunted he could.

“He’s managed to charm the shit out of Miriam Mikelson, and no one does that. _No_ one.” Bob chuckled, shoving the container of triple fudge brownies Alec’s way. “Everyone assumes he’s just slow, on the spectrum or something. But after what I saw today I’m guessing something traumatic happened to him. Brain injury or some such. Boy’s sure got talent though. I’d still be working on that inventory system a month of Sundays if it wasn’t for him.”

Alec wasn’t sure how to respond and munched on a brownie instead. He knew people were curious about Ellery, but shockingly Bob was the first to ask directly. Even Lucy, Mele, and Sam had accepted Q as-is with no questions asked.

“Spent 20 years in the Army,” Bob shared. “Had my tours in Afghanistan and in some of the worst Hell holes this planet has to offer. Lost friends along the way. Brothers. More than I care to think about. Lost some to TBIs, too. But it didn’t ever really hit home until it was my baby sister.” 

Alec had been starting to wonder where this story was headed, but it was suddenly clear this was Bob’s indirect invitation to confidence. 

“Hiking accident,” he continued, gesturing with his water bottle out at the snow-covered peaks. “Trail she’d been on a hundred times before. Slipped. Hit her head. Dad was too old to take care of her on his own, and there was the store to consider. Decided to retire rather than re-up. Took care of Ella for two years before she died. Pneumonia. She’d never really recovered from the accident, physically or cognitively. Lost Dad not long after.”

Bob finally looked at Alec at his side. “It was exhausting at times, taking care of Ella, but I’ll say this … it was the most important, meaningful thing I’ve ever done, and I’d do it again.”

Alec nodded, surprised at how Bob’s last statement hit so near to the mark of his own feelings. He looked down at his hands and found himself taking Bob up on his unspoken offer, though obliquely. “It wasn’t physical, the trauma, but it was … significant. Everything Ellery was before is still there, I’m increasingly convinced of that, but if or when it comes out again …” Alec shrugged. “You’ve got him pegged, though. He’s got more talent than you can imagine. A genius in his own right, but when it comes to technology, he’s bloody Mozart.”

“Well, it’s clear he’s in good hands with you to watch after him. Grace, too. Just know if you ever need a break for a few hours, Ellery is welcome to come potter around the hardware store with me.” The ‘I know how difficult and stressful it can be’ statement sat there between them without him really saying it openly. Bob set his water bottle aside and poured them each a cup of coffee from the thermos Grace had provided.

“And what about you, Alec? There’s more to you than meets the eye,” Bob continued, not really expecting an answer. It was more of an observation. 

“Nothing much to tell.” Alec avoided Bob’s comment and sipped at the brew. “Just doing my job to take care of Ellery.” A truthful statement with no substance that could be interpreted in a variety of ways. A Double-O's reply.

“Uh-huh... Well for the observant,” Bob continued, looking towards the cabin, “I would say that since this property exchanged, there sure seems to be a lot more security cameras and such about. Not that I would mention that to just anyone.”

Alec glanced at his security camera placement. Were they that obvious? He had actually just been considering doubling them yesterday. 

“Let me put it this way. Everyone has a right to their security and their privacy, but it’s also important to know you have someone around to back you up in an emergency.”

And that was that. 

“So what is with the ‘Cat’ thing?” Bob asked with a chuckle, lightening the overly serious mood created by the nature of his tacit offer. 

Alec considered for a moment and didn’t see anything wrong with explaining what happened after they got home the night of the Winter Festival. “Grace believes it’s a form of selective mutism caused by his trauma. The words are there, but El literally can’t access them, except ‘Cat’. And not in front of everyone. Only those he feels completely safe with. Right now that’s me, Grace, and … you, it would seem.”

Bob’s smile was blinding. “I’m … wow. Don’t know what to say to that, ‘cept that I’m honored.”

“Doesn’t use it often, but ‘Cat’ has become something of a word for all meanings. I’m learning to interpret it.” Alec drained his coffee, stood, and stretched. 

“Like speaking Groot,” Bob said, doing likewise.

“Like _what_?”

“Groot … you know, ‘I am Groot,’ Guardians of the Galaxy? Marvel Cinematic Universe?” 

Alec looked at him blankly.

“Good lord man, where have you been?! And with _Spiderman: Homecoming_ and _Thor: Ragnarok_ coming out this year… you know what, never mind. Lookup _Ironman_ on Netflix tonight. Start there.” He repacked Grace’s tote, grumbling all the while. “Don’t know how I feel ‘bout building garden boxes with a man who doesn’t even know who Star-Lord is.”

But by the time Ellery, with Grace and Cat in tow, returned to the barn three hours later, Bob and Alec had finished five of the nine boxes Q had indicated on his blueprints. 

They’d place them in the garden once Miriam’s rhubarb pie came out of the oven.

* * *

  
  


[ Triple Fudge Brownies ](https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/triple-chocolate-fudge-brownies-12773)

  
  



	35. It's Not Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, tell me about James Bond.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday!! Here's an update for all you wonderful people who keep reading and commenting and kudoing (new verb?)!
> 
> We adore and appreciate every last one of you!
> 
> Now for some angst ...

The temperate days remained as March spun itself into April, and Alec began to wonder when they’d get word about Miriam’s rhubarb pie. Ellery seemed keen but largely unconcerned. His vegetable seedlings were growing well in the hothouse Alec constructed in the barn and even the flowers had started to sprout. Q nurtured each diligently, but on those days when he couldn’t escape the pull of his other world, Alec tended them in his stead. 

Alec realised he may have asked about the pie one too many times when Grace plopped a plate on the table containing cheese toasties she’d made the three of them with the new panini press Ellery had ordered from Amazon. Two days before, a notable shipment of boxes with the swoopy logo had shown up at Raven’s Roast with Ruan Kildale’s name on them. Among Ellery’s many purchases were a new set of power tools for Alec, a Siamese cat-shaped silicone ice tray, three door stops that looked like a wedge of Swiss cheese with a mouse poking out one of the holes, and a Q 10 Scrabble coffee mug. Turned out Alec’s Quartermaster was as much of a shop-a-holic online as he was in the shops. Though he couldn’t be sure how much Ellery pulled out of the ensuing conversation on impulse buying, Alec had to admit the door stops were rather clever, and Grace had wanted to try out the press for herself since she was considering adding some simple sandwiches to the menu at the shop.

But the crockery filled with toasted, cheesy goodness thunked against the tabletop hard enough that even Q pulled his attention away from the code he’d been writing.

“Good lord, Alec. You’re worse than a three-year-old on Christmas Eve. No, you may  _ not _ have a present early.” Grace was clearly exasperated with the question. “I promise you will be the second to know when that bloody pie comes out of the sodding oven. Until then, shut up, eat your lunch, and watch the skies. This winter’s not done with us yet.”

Alec and Ellery exchanged a look over the top of Q’s laptop, and a small smile ticked at the corner of El’s lips. “She’s starting to talk like me,” Alec whispered. Q’s grin grew wider.

Grace had been right, however. By the end of the next week, they were digging out after a two-day blizzard which had been followed three days later by another major winter storm.

Devil’s Gulch was again buried under feet of snow.

“It’ll be good for Spring skiing down at the resorts, though. They think they’ll be able to go at least until early June provided things don’t warm up too quickly in May.” Grace collapsed in the chair next to Alec.

It was the first opportunity she’d had to sit down in the two hours Alec and Q had been at Raven’s Roast. They’d been driven out of the cabin by a need to see something, some _ one _ , else for the first time in eight days. Though they were now practically the only ones left in the shop, they hadn’t been the only ones in need of a change of scenery. 

The coffee shop had been filled to overflowing when they’d arrived. Q handled the unexpected crowd brilliantly, with only a few brief moments of anxiety, which was as well because it took nearly 30 minutes to get a seat at their table. Others had become available, but Q had refused to sit anywhere but at  _ their  _ table in the corner. The moment the previous occupants left, Ellery plopped down in his seat facing the wall, pulled his laptop from his rucksack, established a  _ very  _ secure connection -- he’d done some modifications to Grace’s WiFi -- and continued the bug hunt he’d started two days ago. 

Q had been contracted to conduct the extermination by a friend of Bob’s -- the owner of a small pharmaceutical company in Utah -- who suspected someone of hacking into his system and was willing to pay top dollar to anyone who could track them down and keep them out, and Bob had been quick to tell his friend about Q’s skills. Ellery had been eager and excited about the opportunity, and not seeing anything in the job that could potentially compromise their location, Alec had hammered out the terms. “Cat!’ being a somewhat limited vocabulary when it came to negotiating contracts.

Grace had been halfway through a story Sam had told her about a series of armed robberies targeting pharmacies between Breckenridge and Vail when she realised Alec wasn’t paying the least bit of attention.

She recognized the look on his face: broody, uneasy, agitated. It was one she’d seen often enough on Mele’s face during the young woman’s romantic trials, but Grace certainly never expected to see it on Alec’s. Nevertheless, as was her norm, she quickly put two and two together.

“So, tell me about James Bond.”

Alec startled at the question but recovered quickly. “Not much to tell. We were partners in the service. Known each other a lot of years. He was a damned good agent. One of the best.”

“Partners? Another agent?” Grace questioned slowly knowing she couldn’t push Alec too much or he would retreat inside with his thoughts pushed away.

“Best friend. More than friends, off and on, if you must know. Throughout the years whenever we found each other. Which wasn’t often considering how mission assignments went. “ Grace watched Alec watch Q as he spoke and could see the subtle emotions play out on his face that spoke to the emotions beneath. 

“You’re referring to him in the past tense. No longer an agent? Or did something happen to him?” Grace was curious but knew she was walking on shaky ground, poking deeper into Alec’s past. 

“Bastard’s alive somewhere I suppose. Walked away from Six. Just left while I was on a long term mission.” Q wandered past them with an empty cup in hand hoping Lucy would refill it for him. Grace watched Alec track his every moment. 

“Just up and left. Lot of people took his disappearance hard, I hear.” Q sat at the counter while Lucy poured him another cuppa, chatting away at him about her latest idea for decorating her room. “James always had this wild idea that he could have a normal life. Fell hard twice for a woman. Paid the price for it, also. Both of them died. But he still chased his dream of having a normal life outside of the agency. Like that can happen. We don’t do normal.”

“You and Ellery seem to have a fairly normal life here.” She wanted to say  _ relationship  _ but was afraid to go that direction before Alec did. Slippery slope. 

“Normal.” Alec huffed at her. “Says the retired rear admiral who runs her coffee shop and life with military precision and still speaks fluent Dari.”

Grace shrugged. “It’s cliche, I suppose, but ‘normal’ is relative. We each of us carve out what we need in that regard. Make it work specific to us. For me, it’s this place.” She gestured at the interior of her shop as well as the snow-covered town beyond the windows. “I’d reached the point in my career where I was considered … old-fashioned, I suppose. Obsolete. And I’d tired of all the roadblocks being thrown up in my way that made quality patient care the equivalent of passing through the drive-thru at McDonald's down the street, so I came home.”

Alec looked at Grace, dumbfounded. She might as well have been talking about him and of Mallory’s plan to put 006 out to pasture as a trainer for newbie agents.

“Doesn’t mean I left behind who I was,” she continued. “Impossible to do that. My years in the Navy are still a big part of me. Can’t hide from your choices or your past. Not for very long, anyway. You understand that. Even Ellery’s not hiding from himself. He got lost, instead. There’s a difference.”

Grace sipped her tea and regarded Q across the room. “Your friend. James. Sounds like _ he’s _ hiding. Trying to make his ‘normal’ according to someone else’s definition. Not what it’s supposed to be for him. He’ll never be successful or happy because of that.” She turned her attention back on Alec. “But you’re not worried about James. You couldn’t care less if ‘a lot of people took his disappearance hard’. You only care about how  _ one _ person took it. You’re worried Ellery had a thing for James. That maybe it contributed to all this.” 

“If Bond leaving wasn’t the beginning of all of this, then it was a contributing factor,” Alec snapped at her and then regretted it immediately. His emotional state was not her fault. He reigned it back in. “We don’t do relationships outside the service. It’s impossible. The secrecy and trust are a huge detriment to even considering one.” 

Grace wasn’t convinced he wasn’t referring to himself rather than speaking in general. 

“Bond’s walking away after a major international incident left everyone with a lot of clean up to do without his assistance. Especially Ellery.” Alec glanced at Ellery who had made his way back to ‘their table’ two tables behind that of Alec and Grace. “I don’t know all the details of Bond’s departure, but I got the sense there were a lot of pent up emotions for El whenever Bond’s name came up in our comms chats back then. At minimum a huge crush there or else there’d been...”

Alec didn’t say it out loud, concern and anger poking at him, but Grace could fill in the words for him. 

“Alec, even if there was something between them, it doesn’t mean Ellery feels that way now. And you don’t know for sure that there  _ was  _ anything then.”

“Bond checked in! Asked after Q. You passed me the message from Moneypenny, yourself. Bond never,  _ never _ just checks in.” Alec gripped his coffee cup tightly in both hands. Knuckles turning white. 

“Alec, I don’t know how to reassure and settle this for you. Ellery’s condition makes it difficult and at times impossible for him to communicate with us, and it’s compounded with his drifting away into his own world half the time.” So wrapped up in this new aspect of their conversation, neither Grace nor Alec noticed that Q had returned to his table behind them or that he sat quietly, hands just resting on the keyboard. Not typing. Fresh cuppa and caramel brownie ignored. 

“But as I’ve said before, in his own way, Ellery always manages to eventually make his wants and feelings known. Always. You know this. But you need to communicate with him, too. He needs to know what it is that  _ you  _ want. You can’t hide from this. Not unless you want to be just like James Bond.”

Dinner that night was a subdued affair, each man lost in his own thoughts. They’d picked up Chinese takeaway before leaving town, and the detritus of their meal -- paper cartons and empty plates -- was still scattered across the kitchen countertops. Ellery disappeared upstairs directly after dinner with Cat on his heels to take a nap as had become his norm whenever he worked with tech. His bug hunting for Bob’s friend didn’t exhaust him the way working for Six had, but it still left him fatigued even though he enjoyed it. 

Alec, on the other hand, couldn’t be arsed with washing up and had camped out on the sofa in the sitting room to watch telly. Two hours later, he still sat in front of a dark screen, fingers toying with the remote he’d never got ‘round to actually using, too focused on his conversation with Grace and trying not to overthink what James’ checking in with Moneypenny really signified. 

He wasn’t successful.

An insistent meow and a plop on the sofa cushion behind his head heralded Cat’s arrival and pulled Alec from his thoughts. He reached up and scratched Cat’s ears, setting off a rumbling purr that almost had him smiling again. “Having a wash, is he?” Alec asked. He could hear the pipes leading up to the master bath thrumming slightly in the wall.

Cat meeped a confirmation and butted her head against Alec’s hand. Legs splayed out in front of him, he closed his eyes and continued to stroke the soft fur, letting it and the muted vibrations of the pipes soothe his frustrations. His worries.

Though he’d accepted that ‘Cat’ may be the only word Ellery would ever say again, and Alec had started to gain fluency ‘in Groot’ as Bob called it, it didn’t mean there weren’t times when Alec grew exasperated with the limitations of Q’s vocabulary. 

There was so much Alec needed to know that even a well-vocalised ‘Cat!’ couldn’t communicate. He groaned and rubbed his face with his hand. But Grace was right. Ellery always managed to convey his needs and wants … one way or another. He just needed to fucking do the same.

“Cat?”

Alec did not jump. No, he did not! No one had ever managed to sneak up on or sneak away from him as Ellery did. It was becoming embarrassing. He was a sodding Double-O for fuck’s sake!

“Christ! El! How many times have I said, some noise coming down the stairs, please? You’re worse than 005 in a--” Words failed him at that point. 

Ellery stood before him in the half-dark room, shower-damp, wearing nothing but his sleep trousers slung low,  _ very  _ low, on his hips. “Wha- What are you doing?” he asked as Q crawled onto the sofa, one knee pressed into the cushions alongside each side of Alec’s hips until he settled himself comfortably in Alec’s lap and proceeded to kiss him slowly. 

“Ellery?” Alec questioned when he finally broke off their kiss. 

“Cat...” was the response, whispered, gentle, the back of his hand brushed across Alec’s cheek before he dove in for another kiss as full of emotion as the first time Q had kissed him in the kitchen. 

And Alec couldn’t help but respond even though he was conflicted. Hands drifted to Q’s waist. His skin still warm and damp from his shower, it suffused the flesh of Alec’s palms with the passionate energy building between them. Vibrating through him with more intensity than the tiller had caused. Q’s hand moved to the back of Alec’s head winding his fingers in his shaggy hair, pressing himself into Alec. 

Alec returned the kiss with fervor, arm snaking around his slender body pulling him into an embrace. Until Alec felt Q’s awakening erection pushing against his belly. Breaking off the kiss, he pushed Q back away from him almost toppling him off his lap. Q grabbed the arm of the sofa to save himself. 

“Ellery... we... just can’t...” Alec scrubbed a hand over his face frustrated with the entire situation and not knowing how to handle it. When he looked into Q’s face again to was into eyes filled with frustration and sadness 

He tried to push in again to kiss Alec, but he held him back.

“Ellery.... no... we... I don’t know what....”

“Cat!” He protested. “Caaattt!” Closing his eyes, he huffed, growing more frustrated and agitated. Not with Alec, but with himself. At not being able to find the words within. 

“Ca.. Ca...” he protested flapping a hand in Alec’s direction. He paused. Screwed his face up in concentration. 

And slowly, 

struggled to find the sounds.

Finally, it was finally there,

what he was searching for...

"‘lec... ‘lec... Al..ec....Al..ec...Alec”


	36. Following His Handler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Looks like you’ve managed to get yourself quite boxed in, 006.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS CHAPTER MONDAY!!!! 💕💕
> 
> Such bloody wonderful comments from everyone over the weekend. Ellery's new word certainly melted us all into a pile of sentimental, romantic goo. 
> 
> Now for part two.
> 
> Please note that the rating for this story has changed from Mature to Explicit.

The sight of his face, flushed and needy.

The weight of his body, warm and solid.

The smell of his skin, clean and citrusy.

The taste of his lips, minty and wanting.

The sensory feast of Ellery had nearly been enough to undo Alec’s logic. Pushing him to the point where his pent up love and desire for the man in his lap almost overwhelmed the dozens of reasons why this was a bad, such a very bad, bad, bad idea!

He’d pushed Q away. Wrestled with his control. Too much was unknown. Too many things Q couldn’t tell him. 

And then came Ellery’s second word.

Sight.

Touch.

Smell.

Taste.

Were nothing compared to the sound of his name on Ellery’s lips ...

“Say it again …” Rough. Low. Disbelieving.

It didn’t come easily. Grace believed that ‘Cat’ had been born from the stress of the moment, out of fear that the animal Q heard screaming on the other side of the locked barn door was in immediate harm, and so ‘Cat!’ had erupted from Ellery’s mouth clear, concise, and demanding.

This … this was no less crucial.

A different kind of imperative.

He watched Ellery’s mouth form the word twice before sound slipped past his lips again.

“A-Aaa ..lec.” Q took another deep breath. “Al...ec.” He smiled and said it a third time. “Alec.”

Alec grasped Ellery’s head in his hands, thumbs resting against Ellery’s mouth as he said Alec’s name again and again. Alec pressed his lips against Q’s, thumbs and all, Ellery repeating the name through the kiss. They collapsed together against the back of the sofa, Ellery’s face buried in the crook of Alec’s neck where he continued to whisper the two most beautiful syllables Alec had heard in a very long time.

“Ellery...” Alec whispered into his hair then gently pulled Q’s face up so he could look at him. 

“I see you, Ellery.” The mantra that often had kept him focused on Q’s recovering. “I hear you.”

“Alec…”

“I always will.” Thumb brushed across Q’s cheekbone as Alec softly kissed him on the forehead as Q kept repeating his new word. One that would surely have as many meanings as Cat.

Q unwound himself from Alec’s lap and slid off the sofa. He stood looking at Alec. Determined. Using the only words he had, “Cat? Alec? Alec? Alec?”

Alec couldn’t help but chuckle. “I have no clue what you want Ellery?”

Q moved to the stairs, up three or four before he turned around and repeated again, “Cat? Alec? Alec!” 

Alec stood from the sofa and gestured lamely. “El, I--”

Ellery huffed with frustration and rolled his eyes. With nimble fingers, he untied the drawstring of his sleep trousers. The only thing keeping them on his hips, the flannel slid to the ground. Ellery stepped smoothly from them, shooting a pointed look over his shoulder as he did so.

He wore nothing beneath.

“Oh... “ and Alec understood. 

“Looks like you’ve managed to get yourself quite boxed in, 006. Rather vexing, that.” 

It had been their third mission together as agent and handler. Alec had, admittedly, made things incredibly difficult on his new Quartermaster on the previous two. No. He’d been an absolute, utter arse. Ignoring advice, muting his earwig, turning left when instructed to go right, going about things as he had done for ten years on his own. Solo. The lone wolf. Rogue agent. 

Needing no one. 

Until suddenly he did. 

‘Boxed in’ was something of an understatement. Twenty of the enemy stood between him, freedom, and getting the critical intel out to those who could actually do something with it. But he’d fucked up. Zigged when he should have zagged. Shot his weapon when he should have listened to Q’s recommendation and opted for stealth instead. 

“Should’ve listened to you,” Alec admitted in a low, _very_ low, voice. He was tucked behind a series of access panels that were being systematically searched, and it wouldn’t be long before the one he was hiding behind was discovered. It was only then Alec realised Q had been far more patient with his misbehaviour and toddler-like actions than he deserved. Should’ve come to that understanding before he had only three bullets left in his Sig and no more options.

“Are you saying that because you believe it and would do things differently from here on out or only because you think you have no more options?” came the crisp rejoinder half a world away.

Christ his Quartermaster was a mind reader. “The former, Q. I’ve been an arse.”

“Well in that much we agree, 006.”

“Not going to get out of this one, Q.”

“Well not if you take that attitude toward the situation, you’re not. I’ve not found the other Double-Os to be nearly as fatalistic as you are, must be your Russian heritage.”

Alec found he really couldn’t argue with that. And didn’t. The panels opening and shutting were much closer than before.

“Be ready to move on my mark, 006.”

“Q-”

“I see your willingness to do things differently lasted for all of 15 seconds. Now move on my mark or you really _will_ die.”

Alec breathed heavily in response. They were almost to him.

Trust. 

“Move in three, two, one … mark.”

Three things had happened simultaneously when Alec leapt out of the access panel: the lights cut out; a panel three down from his hidey-hole exploded, rendering that portion of the corridor to rubble and taking out three of the enemy; and a loud siren somewhere outside roared to life. Alec quickly shot the two men who hadn’t been killed in the explosion, snagged their weapons, and, finally rearmed, made his way out of the warehouse.

Alec followed Q’s -- his handler -- instructions to the letter and had continued to do so on every mission from that point onward. It was at that moment that their partnership began. 

As he watched Ellery disappear up the stairs, nothing covering his skin but the flush and need of his desire, Alec realised that though he was now Q’s protector, carer, and … more, Q was still his handler. Still his guide. Alec had never regretted the decision to put his life in Q’s skilled hands, it was time he put his heart there, too.

The partnership that began that dark night in Grozny hadn’t ended on that even darker day in Q-Branch. Rather, it had developed into so much more. 

By the time Alec poked his nose into their bedroom some minutes later, Q was wearing his dressing gown. He stood next to Alec’s side of the bed -- closest to the door -- but from the look of things, he had in no way changed his mind about what he wanted. The blue flannel gown hung open, framing the long lines of Ellery’s naked body, pale in the subdued lighting in the room. 

“El, are you sure you--”

Ellery slid out of the dressing gown and silenced the question with a kiss so intense and lasting it left Alec gasping for breath and stripped of his button-down. Q’s lips were so distracting, he never felt the buttons being worked from their holes. Ellery quickly worked open the flies of his jeans, laying quick nips and soothing kisses down the length of Alec’s legs as he slid the denim to the floor, helping him to step barefooted from the fabric. Q looked up the length of Alec’s body, fingers hooked in the waistband of his pants and when Alec offered no protest, he pulled them away, too. Rising to his knees, Ellery embraced Alec’s hips, hands sliding upward to caress his shoulders before Q settled back on his calves again, drawing his nails down the muscled flesh of Alec’s back as he did so.

He closed his eyes and nosed at Alec’s groin, breathing deeply of him. His lips dropped the lightest of kisses where Alec’s leg joined his torso. Alec’s cock jumped against Ellery’s cheek. Smiling, Q nuzzled again and licked a stripe along the side as it firmed even more, finally jutting out from Alec’s body as Q’s tongue reached the end.

Ellery opened his eyes and turned them upward again. Alec could look nowhere else.

“Alec.” His breath ghosted against the sensitive tip of Alec’s cock. The tone was one Alec had never heard Q use on comms. 

It was … needy.

His mind flooded with the image of him pushing deeply into Ellery’s mouth. He wanted! Christ, he wanted El, but he still struggled. His hands clenched at his sides, instead. 

“Alec?” Ellery skimmed the tip of his nose against the head before his lips returned and hovered “Alec?” The need had increased but there was something else there in his name. A tone he did recognise.

Agreement.

Ellery was asking for Alec’s consent. The last of his reservations evaporated with what he saw in Ellery’s eyes and heard in his voice. They both had to agree or it ended here, no censure.

“Christ, El! Yes! Fuck-” the rest of his ascent was cut off by the groan Ellery pulled from Alec’s throat when he opened his mouth and sucked him deeply.

Alec caught himself on Q’s shoulders. It was that or fall over, but after a moment, he slid his hands into El’s hair, their soft strands sliding through Alec’s fingers as Q’s mouth worked over him.

Alec moaned again. It was bloody perfect.


	37. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ... 
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the regular Tuesday update!

He sits looking out at the ocean. Breeze gently flowing across the porch. Tumbler in one hand. Cigar in the other. 

He’s been banned from the cottage with his cigars. She’s threatening to ban him from the porch, also. 

“Yes, Darling.” Another puff on his cigar. He has no idea what she has just said. 

The nights are brilliant here. Soft glowing light. Voices drifting from one of the local cantinas just a short walk away. Fishermen’s helpers repairing nets, rigs, readying for the next day. 

Breathe in ... 

Breathe out ... 

A sip from his tumbler. 

A puff on his cigar. 

Breathe in ... 

Breathe out ... 

From the one-sided conversation next to him, he picks out the words “bored”, “excitement”, and “why don’t you...”

“Yes, Darling.”

Breathe in …

Breathe out ...

“Whatever you say, Darling”

Breathe in ... Breathe out ...

A sip from his tumbler. 

A puff on his cigar. 

Breathe in ... Breathe out ... 

Breathe in ... Breathe out ... 

Breathe in …

Breathe out ...  
  
  


God, he hated his life. 

  
  
  



	38. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He breathed in deeply ... 
> 
> Then breathed out again ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think most of you are aware of the current comment trend for Chapter 37. LOL! Bloody brilliant is all we have to say about it. We adore you all, and your dedication to Alec and Q, so much!
> 
> And whilst their relationship has taken a giant leap forward, we are by no means close to the end of this particular tale. There's so much more yet to come.
> 
> Here's Thursday's update for you. Hope you enjoy!

The flickering of the sun on his face through the parted blackout curtains woke Alec by degrees. 

He groaned and nestled deeper beneath the duvet. One hand still curled possessively over Q’s hip, Alec smiled against Ellery’s shoulder, enjoying the press of their naked skin together. Skin they had taken hours to explore before simply running out of energy.

Alec couldn’t remember having experienced anything like it. Probably because nothing like it had ever happened to him. 

His life as a Double-O had always demanded a degree of sexual fluidity. Not every agent saw it that way, but Alec wasn’t about to self-impose restrictions that limited how -- or from whom -- he gathered intel when seduction was necessary. But even in those rare times when he was supposed to be the one being ‘seduced’, Alec was still the one in control. His mark just didn’t know it.

It was just sex. Granted, he  _ liked _ sex. Of course, he did.

Intimacy, however …

Just didn’t happen. Not in his line of work. Not even in the times when he and James had come together. There had been closeness, yes, but nothing like …

Nothing like last night.

Christ! Deadly, bat-shite crazy SIS operative with enough demons to haunt him for three lifetimes, and even in his head, he sounded like a besotted virgin after the wedding night. 

Alec pressed a kiss into dark curls, slowly uncurled from Q, and slipped off the side of the bed, leaving him to sleep a tad longer. Heading to shower and dress for the day, what happened between them was at the forefront of his thoughts. 

He stood with the hot water beating down on his shoulders when it suddenly occurred to him. Grace had always said Ellery would find a way to show them what he wanted and what he thought. And, that is exactly what he had done. 

Ellery must have heard them talking, again. Sitting just a few feet away, he had been more present at the moment than it had occurred to either of them. 

Alec flipped the shower off, dried quickly, and pulled on his jeans. He needed to talk to Ellery. He felt the need to try to clarify a few things about what Ellery felt for him in return, if possible. See if El had understood what he had been trying to explain to Grace yesterday about Bond. 

But when Alec stepped out of the loo, steam billowing out around him, the bed was empty. 

No Ellery. 

No Cat. 

“Shite!” Alec tore down the stairs two at a time hoping Ellery was sitting at the kitchen table awaiting coffee or engrossed in the television. But the lounge and kitchen were both empty. 

The back door was standing partially ajar, cold wind and blowing snow creeping in from the ageing drifts outside. 

Alec flung the door open, starting out to search the barn but a flash of colour caught his eye. Curled up in a chair on the porch wrapped in the duvet off their bed sat Ellery, Cat on the table at his side, paws tucked firmly beneath her body to ward off the effects of the freezing air. 

No. No. No. No! NO!

Please no! Not again!

He didn’t think twice, Alec swung Q into his arms and dashed back inside and up the stairs to their bedroom. He tossed the icy duvet to the ground and slid Ellery into bed, beneath the remaining blanket and atop the heated mattress topper that was part of the Amazon shipment. Thankfully, it was still on and warm. 

Alec slid in next to him.

“Bugger me!” he yelped. He’d pressed Q’s chilled hands against his own chest before pulling him close. “Fucking ice cubes.” Alec tucked Ellery’s head beneath his chin and wrapped himself as securely around him as he could, all the while noting that Q said nothing through it all. 

No ‘cat.’

And no ‘Alec.’

Thankfully, Ellery warmed quickly. They continued to lie there for some time, however.

In silence.

Alec dreaded that silence and what he would see in Ellery’s face when he finally looked, but they couldn’t stay like this forever. He pressed a lingering kiss to Ellery’s forehead and pulled back to see the tear-stained face that --

_ Wasn’t  _ tear-stained. 

Wasn’t stressed or agonised. 

Q’s eyes were distant, once again in his other world, but he didn’t seem … lost.

Alec exhaled roughly, unaware that he’d been holding his breath. He kissed Q’s cheek. Temple. Nose. Lips. So fucking thankful. “I see you, love.”

Ellery blinked slowly and looked at him. His eyes cleared. Focused. Present.

Q smiled. “Alec.”

The warmth Alec felt hearing his name and seeing that smile was countered by the chill he still felt in Ellery’s feet. He brushed his knuckles against Q’s cheek and took his face in his hands.

Q must have seen something in Alec’s expression for his smile faded, green eyes grew concerned. “Cat?” He pushed a hand into Alec’s hair and kissed him. “Cat? Cat?”

“El … I hope you can … I  _ need _ you to hear this. Ellery, you can’t keep doing this.” Alec shook his head to push off his own rising anxiety but he wasn’t wholly successful. Christ! He’d never had this problem before. What was it about ... “You can’t keep disappearing. I can’t protect you if I don’t know where you are. I can’t … look, there’s so little that scares me, but …”

Picking up on Alec’s agitation, Q hooked a leg around his hip, nestled in closer and nuzzled his chin. El slipped his arms out from between their bodies and began rubbing Alec’s back with slow, gliding strokes until his breathing slowed and his heartbeat no longer felt quite a rabbit trying to win the 100 metre dash. 

Alec breathed in deeply ... 

Then breathed out again ...

“El... listen to me... You can’t wander around out in the snow. Especially barefoot, naked. Catch your death.”

“Cat?  _ Cat _ ?”

“Christ, El. Wish I understood why you do the things you do sometimes? Where the bloody hell you go when you get lost in that head of yours.” Alec sighed. 

Q countered it with a kiss.

“No more going outside without clothes. Understand?” Alec said against his mouth when it ended. He couldn’t help but wonder what pulled Q to need to be outside so desperately at times, free from the confines of walls. Something to talk with Grace about. “Bundle up until the weather warms. And most importantly, try not to wander without me knowing. I’d never deny you your excursions, but at least I’ll know where you are.”

“Alec?” He couldn’t tell if Q was agreeing with him or not but from the intent look on his face, he seemed to understand the request. 

“You’re my primary.” He wrapped El his arms so tightly it was probably uncomfortable, but Q didn’t protest. “ _ Always _ my primary.” 

Cat took that opportunity to interrupt their conversation by jumping onto Q’s hip, demanding his attention, her food, and their morning chat. 

“I suppose that’s our cue to crawl out of bed.” But Q pulled Cat in between them and catted a conversation of the utmost importance with her. 

“El...” Alec tapped him gently on the forehead to get his attention. “Ellery. Remember. I see you.” 

Q smiled up at him, a quirky, odd smile. “Cat...” 

“Yes, Cat.” He bussed Q’s mouth with his own and rolled away, Cat’s annoyed protests echoing through the room. “Now get your naked arse out of bed and deal with your feline BFF there. Big day ahead of us today anyway. There’s chili to make and a competition to win.”


	39. Prepping for the Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, you little shite.”
> 
> “Alec...” he tried one more time. 
> 
> “Not going to work, El. Although I am tempted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday, everyone! We hope today is a day of rest for you and that you enjoy today's update. It's another transition chapter that will ultimately take these boys on yet another road to their ultimate destination. Please let us know what you think.
> 
> Don't miss the three recipes linked at the bottom. There are some tasty goings-on in this chapter.

“Cat!”

“No.”

“Cat?”

“Still no.”

“Caaaattt?”

“That look was just pathetic, El. No! Puppy dog eyes do not work. You’re not getting any more from me.”

“Alec …”

“Oh. Low blow, you little shite, so not remotely fair--” he still got a tad gooey at the sound of his name coming out of Ellery’s mouth, but his censure was cut off by a lanky, still-too-thin boffin climbing him like a tree. And if there was one thing Alec had learned in the last 24 hours, it’s that though Q’s words continued to elude him, the man still had a bloody brilliant tongue.

Ellery’s legs wrapped around Alec’s hips. He devoured Alec’s mouth, and Alec wrapped one arm around Q’s back to keep him in place. His other hand was otherwise occupied holding a wooden spoon high above his head as El squirmed to grab it. 

What ensued was a battle for the utensil between kisses and more than a bit of rutting against each other. 

“You … won’t … Christ, you taste good … won’t eat any of the … other chilis … if you keep … Oh, God, just like that … if you ... keep eating mine!”

Alec needed to stir the pot but it was a tad complicated with Q wrapped around him. 

“You so do not play fair, El! You...” and he was silenced by another kiss while Q made another grab at the spoon. “Keep squirming like that... going to drop you...”

“Cat!”

“No.”

“Cat?”

“Still no.”

“Caaaattt?”

“So not going to win, El. I can do this all day.” Alec pushed back against the squirming body pressed against him until Q was forced to stand on his feet again. 

“Cat!”

“No, you little shite.”

“Alec...” he tried one more time. 

“Not going to work, El. Although I am tempted, it’s _not_ to give you more chili.” No one... no one could have mistaken the pout that appeared on Q’s face for anything but what it was. 

Alec swatted at him with a kitchen towel. “Have to get this chili to the school by 3 pm and then pick up Miriam.” Q’s bottom lip actually stuck out farther. 

“Don’t want to be late to get Miriam. We’d never hear the end of that, and she’d probably not invite us back for Tuesday Tea. On second thought, she likes taking my money too much to do that.”

Alec was a good poker player, but Miriam Mikelson was bloody brilliant. Possibly even better than James Bond. Weeks later, Alec remembered with awe the systematic way she’d reduced his pile of quarters to nothing, eventually leaving him no choice but to wager what she’d really been after all afternoon: Ellery as her escort to the chili supper. Though Alec had actually wagered himself, Miriam turned him down, and Q seemed quite glad at the opportunity.

“You’ll be too busy with the competition, anyway, dear. Besides, Ellery and I will have more to talk about. Plenty in common, I think,” Miriam had said, pouring a measure of bourbon into Alec’s Earl Grey.

“What makes you think I’ll be involved in the Cook-Off?” Alec sipped at his tea. Damn good bourbon.

Miriam had only smiled, patted his hand, and offered another piece of chocolate nut banana bread to Q.

“It’s open to anyone,” Grace explained the next afternoon at Raven’s Roast where she and Ellery were in the kitchen making a batch of maple, brown sugar cookies Q had found online that he all but begged her to make, “but generally only four or five people compete.” 

“Too little interest?” Which didn’t seem right to Alec because if there was one thing Devil’s Gulch did well, it was fundraisers. 

Seemed every other weekend there was an event raising money for some sort of group or organisation in need. Sam attributed that to two things: the values of the people who lived in Devil’s Gulch and their desperate desire for _something_ to do in the depths of winter. “Can’t always tell which need comes first, though,” Sam admitted with a shite-eating grin.

Despite the abundance of gatherings, Alec and Q had attended only one other event after Winter Fest: the dessert social at the Community Center to benefit the local animal shelter. Of _course,_ they went. Once he’d heard about it, Ellery ‘catted on’ for a good five minutes until Alec agreed to take him, and, as expected, the event had been packed with people and pets. There’d been one minor wobble when they’d arrived, but between Grace’s help and some cuddles with an extremely friendly, yellow Labrador Retriever named Watson, Q recovered quickly. They’d left two hours later with bellies so stuffed with pie they’d driven home with their trousers undone for comfort. 

“No,” Grace snorted in response to the cook-off question, sliding the first trays of cookies into the oven whilst Q precisely measured and mixed ingredients for the next batch of dough. “A tad more vanilla this time around, I think,” she directed Ellery before finishing her reply to Alec’s question. “Too little success unseating the current five-time, Champion Chili Chef.”

“Who?”

“Bob Gibson.”

Oh. Oh!

Ohhhhh. Yessssss!

At that news, Alec had no choice but to enter the competition against the man he was starting to consider a friend. Some records were meant for breaking, after all, and Alec immediately started planning his strategy for this new mission. He spent the rest of the afternoon on his mobile looking up recipes he planned to modify whilst Grace and Q baked.

Trying to keep his secret chili recipe safe from a bottomless pit of a boffin, Alec shooed Q upstairs to shower and dress for the evening. It was early, but he was easily distracted, some days taking hours to do something that normally would take only a few minutes. In Q’s other world, it seemed focus and concentration had little meaning and time moved quite differently.

Alec gave his offering for the chili cook-off one more stir and turned the heat down so it could simmer and thicken. Tonight would be an interesting outing, and he was bound and determined to unseat Bob Gibson from his reign as Chili Cook-off Royalty. 

Alec suddenly stopped. 

Dead in his tracks. 

Halfway across the kitchen. 

When the reality of what their agenda actually was for the evening hit him.

How the fuck did this happen?! 

He was getting ready to participate in another community fundraising event in a small town, stateside. With friends. A home. Ellery... and _Ellery_. 

But he was the rogue, Double-O agent of MI6! The bat-shite crazy Russian with a penchant for blowing things up or burning them to the ground! 

Here, in a home that belonged to him, where he had not too long ago tilled space for a garden plot so Ellery could give a home to all his plants that had taken over the spare bedroom and the barn. 

It was … domestic! He’d felt this way just before the Winter Festival, too, but it hadn’t been nearly so potent. So unavoidably apparent.

It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. 

_“....It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone…”_

Oh yes... that is definitely where he was... The Twilight Zone. 

“Fuck me...” Alec muttered just as he caught movement in his peripheral vision. Ellery trying to sneak back into the kitchen to attack his chili again. 

“Don’t you dare, you little shite! Shower!”

“Caaatttt!” Q huffed at him as he scooted back out of the kitchen. 

“Moneypenny would never believe me,” Alec muttered, following Ellery up the stairs. Supervision clearly needed in order to protect his chili from Mr. Grabby Hands. “Not one bloody iota.”  
  
  


* * *

[ Maple, Brown Sugar Cookies ](https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/maple-brown-sugar-cookies/)

[ Chocolate Nut Banana Bread ](https://melaniemakes.com/chocolate-chip-walnut-banana-bread/)

[ Alec’s Chili Recipe ](https://www.panningtheglobe.com/eddies-award-winning-chili/) (though he’s added some special, top-secret Double-O ingredients he won’t share with us. Turns out the whole, “I would tell you, but then I’d have to …” scenario is quite real, in fact.)


	40. Miriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He is a puzzle, isn’t he. A darling boy, but a puzzle,” Miriam commented to Alec, noting his concerned gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS CHAPTER!!
> 
> Ten reasons for this bonus chapter ...
> 
> 1\. We reached over 10k hits on this story. Ten thousand hits in only ten weeks. Boffin and I are stunned by that! Truly pole-axed. Thank you for reading!  
> 2\. Our readers are amazing!  
> 3\. We couldn't wait any longer for you to truly meet another one of our favorite OCs: Miriam Mikelson.  
> 4\. Our readers ask so many on-point questions and are wonderfully intuitive!  
> 5\. We love comments! We crave comments!  
> 6\. Our readers are as invested in these characters as we are!  
> 7\. We've got big, complex things in store for this upcoming week, and this chapter is the portal for that.  
> 8\. Happy Fathers Day!  
> 9\. Dassandre's Labrador, Watson, made sad puppy dog eyes at her until she said, "Okay, fine. Let me check with Boffin."  
> 10\. Boffin said, "Yes!"
> 
> We think that about covers it. We hope you enjoy it. It's a long one.

By the time Alec, Q, and Miriam arrived at the high school, the Devil’s Gulch Chili Supper and Cook-Off was off to a solid start. Unlike the Winter Festival which was a come and go as you please gathering, The Supper (as it was known) was a ticketed event in order to ensure enough food was available for all who came.

On the way over, Miriam told them how the event had long since outgrown the cafeteria to seat the number of people attending, so everything was set up and decorated in the gymnasium by the school’s Booster Parent Group. 

The people had definitely come out in force. 

Too much so for Ellery tonight. The foyer outside the gym was teeming with people much as the warehouse entryway had been at the Festival. The bright lights, the cacophony of sound, the amalgam of smells …

It was like watching the curtain falling at the conclusion of a West End play, the way the focus in Q’s eyes faded when he retreated into his other world. Alec pushed in close to him, did what he could to pull Ellery back, literally and metaphorically, but between Miriam on Q’s arm and the slow cooker with her contribution in his own hands, and the seeming chaos around them, there was no stopping it.

“Ellery!”

With a strangled whimper, Q was gone. Pushing past people with his arms in front of his face like a shield, he was through the crowd and out the door before Alec could shove Miriam’s crockpot into the arms of someone dressed as a giant purple dragon wearing a green and white striped rugby jersey.

“Ellery!” Alec ran after him into the quad. He scanned the open space, searching through the still arriving diners and the melting snowdrifts, but the lighting was shite. Only about half the floodlights atop the buildings seemed to be working. Little fucking wonder the school needed a fundraiser.

Q made it across the quad and was huddled in on himself, standing awkwardly at the kerb near the bus lanes. The darkly lit area made it hard for Alec to spot him immediately. By the time he did, Alec's heart was definitely starting to rabbit with worry. Christ. Why did losing Ellery always do this to him? As a Double-O, panic was not in his vocabulary. He’d never have survived as long as he had, been as successful as he had been in the field without complete control over such a base emotion as panic. He’d have been dead a dozen times over, otherwise.. With Ellery, however … 

“El! Ellery...” Alec reeled in his fear, tamped down on it, and came to a stop, fearful that he would spook Q more and he’d take off again. Alec didn’t know what he would do then. It was one thing for Q to have moments like this at the cabin where he was safe and secure, but here with all these people and way too many places to run was another thing altogether. 

“Ellery... it’s alright.” He approached him slowly, hands out hoping to be able to take him gently by the arm. But as soon as he was within reach, Q latched onto Alec by the back of his coat, burying his face in the middle of his back. 

Alec tried to pull him around in front of him, but El refused, clinging tighter to his coat. 

“It’s fine. I’ve got you. “ Alec reached back, wrapping a hand around his side with a firm grasp. “I see you, El. I hear you.” He gently tried to coax him back around front. 

“Alec... Ellery...” Miriam’s voice and the sound of her cane on the sidewalk cut through the darkness. “Is everything alright, Alec?”

“Over here, Miriam. Ellery’s just had an off moment is all.”

“Do I need to get Grace?”

“I don’t kn--”

He was interrupted by Miriam’s chuckle for as soon as she’d was within range, Q untangled one of his hands from the back of Alec’s coat and snagged the pocket of Miriam’s.

The nonagenarian balanced herself carefully on her cane and stepped closer to the two men. “Ellery.” Her voice was kind but firm. “Ease up your grip on Alec, please. You don’t have to let go of him, entirely, but let him turn around.” 

To Alec’s surprise, Q did just that. His fingers skittered along the fabric as Alec turned, eventually gripping his pocket in the same way he’d done with Miriam’s. They faced each other in a loose triangle, with El’s face partially buried in Alec’s shoulder.

“Stand up straight and look at me, please.”

It took a moment, but Q did as asked, making Alec wonder if Miriam was some sort of Ellery-Whisperer. It was too dark for Alec to see how present El was at this angle, but he was responding and the pounding in Alec’s chest eased a tad more. 

Tiny thing though she was, Miriam reached up to brush Ellery’s fringe from his face and cupped his cheek fondly before untangling his fingers from her pocket so she could take his hand in hers. “You look very smart tonight, Ellery. I forgot to tell you that earlier.” 

Q had dressed in his finest to escort Miriam to The Supper: his black and white plaid trousers, a soft garnet-coloured cotton button-down with a black patterned waistcoat shot through with the same red, and his black Converse trainers. He’d even attempted to control his curls a tad and allowed Alec to trim up his goatee.

He’d made it clear to Alec he’d been looking forward to the evening and had taken his duties as Miriam’s escort seriously.

“I’d be the envy of all the young women -- and some of the men, too, I’d imagine -- to come in on the arm of such a handsome man, but I’d much rather you escort me back home now. There are plenty of things to eat back at the house, and I’ve a dessert I think you’ll find particularly interesting.”

She looked up at Alec. “I believe I know what happened, but we’ll talk more at home. I told that garish dragon to set the dish out, so I’d imagine the crowd has started in on it already. Send Grace one of those text-things so she doesn’t worry. Have her stand-in for you at the judging.”

Q’s eyes were wide behind his spectacles, taking in all she was saying and doing for him. “A-Auntie?” he whispered. It was choppy, a tad garbled, and clearly took effort, but at the end of it, Ellery had another word.

Alec’s smile nearly split his face and Miriam’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you darling man,” she said. “Yes, of course, you may call me that.” She reached out to tap Alec’s chest with the handle of her cane. “Go. Bring ‘round the car. Ellery and I will wait for you at the main entrance.

Before Alec could wonder how he’d detach Q from his pocket, Ellery had already done just that and held his arm out for Miriam to take. Still her escort. Alec tipped Q’s chin up, his eyes were only slightly foggy, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before nodding at his Miracle Worker.

“I’ll be waiting for you, ma’am.”

“Do so, and I’ll throw in some Macallan 18 I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” she said with a knowing smile.

Alec ran back to the car park. 

Buckling the seat belt and closing the door was a concept lost on Q once more when Alec came to pick them up. Q sat silently in the back seat the entire ride back to Miriam’s, staring out the window at the passing houses, lost in his own world. Alec kept an eye on him in the mirror hoping they weren’t facing a few bad days again of him drifting away, but when they arrived back at Miriam’s house, lucid Q appeared again, holding his arm out for Miriam to take and making their way up to the front door together. 

Flicking on lights as they went, Miriam led them to the kitchen and proceeded to supervise the _boys_ preparing breakfast for dinner in all its glory. Her version of a full English breakfast that along with the mushrooms and tomatoes included bacon and sausage, potatoes, lots of eggs, and ‘ _one must always have pancakes’_ according to Miriam. 

While they ate, Alec and Miriam chatted about Devil’s Gulch as well as her theory on why tonight had been impossible for Ellery to handle when he’d been doing so well around increasingly larger groups of people. Though he’d been wrestling to control his reaction to the intense sensory input, Miriam had noticed it wasn’t until he saw the high school’s dragon mascot that he’d crumbled. “It was the costume, I believe. He relies on facial expressions to see the intent in a person’s actions. I’ve noticed that about him when you come for tea, so when Draco came to greet us, arms outstretched …”

“He panicked.” Alec sighed, wishing he’d been able to prevent that experience for Ellery.

“I’m not overly fond of clowns for the same reason,” Miriam added with a slight shudder. “Beastly things. Not funny in the least.”

“No, they’re not,” Alec agreed. “You’re very skilled at reading people, ma’am.”

Miriam arched an eyebrow. “Of course, I am, young man. How do you think I manage to win all your quarters? Blind luck?”

Alec snorted and finished his eggs.

Ellery remained silent through the conversation, focussed on his meal, and seeming to listen at times, but he was not as attentive as Alec would have liked. He was still confused and concerned at what triggered El’s drifting. It seemed to have no rhyme or reason at times. 

Once dishes were cleared, washed, dried, and put away, Alec and Miriam sat at her kitchen table with the promised bottle of Macallan shared in Miriam’s best china cups. Alec watched Ellery wander around, seemingly distracted by Miriam’s kitchen, occupying himself rearranging her utensils. 

“He is a puzzle, isn’t he. A darling boy, but a puzzle,” Miriam commented to Alec, noting his concerned gaze. “Be careful in that drawer, Ellery. There are some sharp knives in it. Will give you a wicked gash if you aren’t careful.” 

“Auntieeee ...” it was quiet, but both Alec and Miriam heard him.

There was something in that dry tone, however, that Alec knew all too well. It translated as ‘Please! I’ve designed bladed paper clips with edges sharper than these knives.’ 

It was 100 percent, pure Quartermaster snark. Alec drank from his cup, swallowing his emotions along with the whisky, pushing back all the memories hearing that tone again after so long brought to mind.

“We’d a younger sister. Frances,” Miriam said after a sip from her cup, her eyes on Ellery. “I’m sure there’s a term now for what made her so special, but Frannie was a bit simple and quiet, and I loved her like a hydrangea loves the morning sun. Scarlet Fever took her in ‘32, and I still mourn her.” 

Q had finished with the knives and moved on to rearranging the placement of Miriam’s crockery in their cupboards, bringing the things she used most frequently -- plates, soup bowls, and the like -- down to the lower shelves where she could more easily reach them. 

“He’s not always been this way, I know,” Miriam said, clasping the top of Alec’s hand. “And it takes some adjusting, but you’ve the patience for it. And the love” She poured more whisky into their cups. “Just a bit more. You’ll be driving soon.” 

“Adjusting …” Alec thought on the term. “Adjusting is … I think I’ve almost accepted that the man I knew isn’t coming back except for occasional flashes.” He smiled, watching as Q sorted through the crockery. “He’s happy for the most part, I think. I don’t know if he really was before.”

“There are many ways to communicate that have nothing to do with words.” Alec heard the wisdom of age and experience in her voice. He was not so jaded a Double-O to ignore them. “I adore your Ellery, Alec. He’s kind, funny, and smart as a whip. Anyone who spends more than five minutes with him can see all of that. He’ll surprise us all with what he’s still capable of doing. He’s just biding his time, I think.” 

Ellery stood back from the cupboard, hands-on hips, head cocked to the side, to assess his progress. He shook his head then swapped out the salad plates for the soup bowls. 

“Give him time, Alec. I know it probably seems like it is moving at a snail's pace. He’ll find his way.” Miriam ran an aged finger around the rim of the china saucer in front of her. “Just remember it may not be the way we think it should be, but it will be _his_ way. As long as he is happy and you are too.”

“Ellery likes you, Ma’am. Thank you for helping him tonight. There aren’t many who he trusts at all and let’s inside, even before this happened to him.” Suddenly Alec realised it was quiet behind him. _Too_ quiet. No thudding and clunking of the dishes and pottery. 

“You better not be messing with that coffee maker, Ellery!” But glancing to the far end of the kitchen, he saw that Q had disappeared, and he jumped from his chair. 

“He’s in the house, young man. Don’t fret. I would have heard him open one of the doors. Have a bell on both of them.” But Alec was up and on the hunt. 

Heading out of the kitchen, down the hallway past the living room he found Ellery in the foyer by the front door busying himself arranging Miriam’s assortment of canes in a tall crockery. 

“Cat!” Ellery glanced over his shoulder, quite pleased with himself. 

“Thank you, young man. That was very thoughtful of you.” 

Q scooted past the pair into the living room, searching for his next organisation project. “I’ve been meaning to tend to the guest bath down the hall, Ellery. If you’re interested,” Miriam called after him. Ellery popped his head back out the door, smiled, and was off down the corridor.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Alec said, gesturing after Q. “This side of him has been popping up every so often.”

“Yes. Grace told me about the espresso machine.” She sat in a comfortable reading chair next to the living room window. Alec dithered in the corridor, torn between joining her and checking on Ellery. “Trust him, Alec. Come and sit.” He took the chair opposite her. “He’s clearly skilled at it. The kitchen cabinets, especially. Lovely of him. It’s been harder getting at the items on the higher shelves, but there never seems to be time for me to change things around.”

“His organisational skills are practically occult,” he agreed, but not only about the changes to Miriam’s kitchen. “Sees patterns in things no one else can see. Makes connections no one else can make. Feels odd to see him put those skills to use for something as simple as this.” He gestured at the room to indicate the changes Ellery had made throughout the house. “He was the best at what he did, ” Alec said, trying to infuse his words with all the respect and admiration he felt for his Quartermaster. “Saved lives. Mine more than once.”

“ _Did_? You don’t think he’ll be able to go back, then.” Statement. Not a question. Though kindly said, Miriam’s words were like a bullet shot at the heart of what Alec had been wrestling with since Ellery’s assist with Q-Branch.

“No. I don’t.” 

Odd. Saying it aloud. 

“The world didn’t end like you feared it might when you said that, did it?” There was no sarcasm in Miriam’s voice. Only a wealth of understanding.

Alec shook his head and looked out the window. “The world didn’t end, but it’s not the same anymore, either. _We’re_ not the same anymore. He can’t go back, and neither can I.”

“Not without him.”

“I’ll _never_ leave Ellery.” His words were sharp. Firm. Undeniable. It shocked him how easily they came and how true they were. “But it’s not just because of him. I can’t go back because I’m not sure I’m the same anymore, either.” 

Alec Trevelyan was still a Double-O. Still a killer. Still an assassin. Still a bat shite crazy agent whose demons chased him day and night. But for the first time in a very long time, decades perhaps, or maybe for the first time ever, Alec had started to believe that wasn’t _all_ he was. 

He took a deep breath. The reality of his thoughts truly sinking in. Their initial plans of eventually returning to London had just disappeared into thin air, and the weight of that knowledge was both liberating and almost overwhelming. He and Ellery would need to do lots of planning and talking things over. Well, he would talk. Ellery would “cat”. 

“You are very astute, Ma’am. You ask the right questions, say the right things. Makes a person think. A lot like Grace.” Alec chuckled, pushing a hand through his hair, a tell that he didn’t seem to even try to conceal anymore. 

“Where do you think she learned it ... she’s a Mikelson after all.” As true a statement as any from the reigning, elderly queen of Devil’s Gulch who had accepted Alec and Ellery into her home, no questions asked. Accepted _them_. As if she saw who they were underneath it all. Intuitive. She would have made a good agent in her day, Alec considered, wondering what a younger Miriam Mikelson had been like… even more of a force to be reckoned with, he was sure. 

“Cat!” Ellery drew both their attention away from their serious conversation. He stood just inside the living room door. 

“Done with the guest bath, dear?”

“Auntie.” He obviously pleased with himself. 

“Well, I think that’s enough organizing for one day. Must leave some to do so you can come back and visit me again. I’ll make sure to have a sweet, chocolate treat waiting,” Miriam said as her landline began to ring in the kitchen. 

“Would you be a dear and get that for me, Ellery. It’s too late in the day for me to be rushing around to grab the phone. Who’s calling me this late anyway?” Alec started to protest that he’d do it, but Ellery had already skittered off towards the kitchen. 

It was then that Alec’s mobile buzzed in his pocket again as it had been doing off and on. He leaned over on his hip, pulled the phone out of his pocket, and …

“Oh, Christ! We forgot to call Grace!” He jumped up from his chair and dashed down the corridor, but he could already hear Q ‘catting’ on the phone which he would only do with Grace.

They were so fucked.   
  
  



	41. The Pharmacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t worry your heads about it,” Miriam said with a pat to Ellery’s arm when they entered the living room. “Grace always gets like this when she worries about family. She’ll be fine in a day or so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are so happy that Miriam was well-received. She's such a fabulous ole gal. Thank you for all your wonderful comments on the last chapter.
> 
> It's time for the regular Tuesday update, and this one's ... well, we'll leave it for you to decide.

Alec quickly discovered snakes weren’t the only thing to cause Grace Mikelson to lose her cool. 

Whilst there was no screaming, yelling, or shouting, the tense, frosty lecture from the other end of the line made Alec squirm in a way not even the old M had ever managed. He tried to explain, but Grace made it quite clear his responses and replies were neither required nor welcome. 

“No. I think we’ll take tomorrow off,” Grace snapped when he suggested they talk more about it after Q’s session. “Monday afternoon at the shop. Goodnight, Mr. Kildale.” 

“Cat?” Ellery's eyes were wide with concern and perhaps a tad of guilt, too. Though Grace had saved her philippic for Alec, Q had heard most of it through the handset anyway.

Alec shook his head. At a loss for words.

“Don’t worry your heads about it,” Miriam said with a pat to Ellery’s arm when they entered the living room. “Grace always gets like this when she worries about family. She’ll be fine in a day or so.”

“That explains why she’s worried about you, but we’re not family,” Alec said, slumping back into his chair.

Miriam frowned at him, then looked at Q. “Is he always this -- what’s the word you Brits use? -- oh, yes. I remember. Is he always this thick?”

Ellery shrugged his shoulders. “Cat.”

She turned her watery blue eyes back on Alec. “Alec Kildale, I only invite _family_ over for Tuesday Tea.”

He blinked. 

“Oh.”

“Well, young men,” Miriam stood slowly from her chair. “It’s past my bedtime, and these old bones need some rest. But before I shoo you out the door, I have something to send home with you.“ She turned toward the kitchen. “Ellery, would you please help me?” she called back to them. 

Q obediently followed her towards the back of the house. Alec didn’t have long to wait before El returned, beaming, with a pie in each hand. A _rhubarb_ pie in each hand. 

“Don’t eat them all in one sitting, now. There’ll be more where this came from. “ Miriam followed behind him. 

“Cat! Cat!” Ellery’s face was brimming with excitement. 

“Yes. I see. Miriam’s rhubarb pie. I know exactly what you are telling me, you little shite.” Alec chuckled, knowing in the next few days they would finally start planting Ellery’s garden. “Thank you, Ma’am. We’ll savour every piece of them. Best be going anyway, we need to stop at the grocery on the way out of town.”

They said their goodnights at the door, but Miriam stopped Alec one last time. “Truly, don’t fret about Grace. She’ll be fine in a couple of days. Remember now, I’m expecting the both of you for Tuesday Tea. Don’t be late.”

After an evening that started off extremely rocky and concerning, Ellery catted at Alec all the way to the grocery, tightly clutching his rhubarb pie like it was a priceless jewel. Alec was pretty sure Q was telling him all about how he wanted the garden planted ‘just so.’ God knew Ellery had drawn up plans, changed his mind, and revised them so many times Alec had lost count. 

Alec glanced at him across the front seat of the Explorer and couldn’t help but smile. Q seemed happy, or at least happier. Even if he was only here and present half the time, Ellery being content is what mattered. 

“Cat!”

“I’m listening. I’m listening, you little shite. And you listen, too. No cart at the store for you to sneak shite into. We only need _cat_ food.”

“Cat!” The indignant meaning behind the word was quite clear. 

In the end, it was actually Alec who added to their take: a pouch of cat treats he’d seen advertised on the telly. He already knew they met Ellery’s exacting quality and nutrition standards when it came to anything that went down Cat’s gullet. The cat food they were buying, not as much. Alec had been so focused on perfecting his chili recipe for the competition he’d forgotten to pick up a bag of Cat’s specialty food at Callie’s Pet Supply Shoppe. 

“Not a problem, El. We’ll just pick some up on our way to get Miriam. She’s open til four,” he'd said as they were leaving the cabin. Unfortunately, Alec had also forgotten Callie had flown to San Diego for her sister’s wedding and had closed up shop until Tuesday. 

Ellery had not been pleased, and Alec expected Cat’s displeasure would be even more vocal. He hoped the treats would appease her. They’d run out of her kibble that morning. The small bag of cat food he carried to the front of the store had received the least disgusted glare Q had for the options available, but it said nothing good to Alec that Ellery hadn’t uttered a single ‘Cat’ the entire time. 

It was late. Twenty minutes before closing, the grocery was largely deserted. They’d encountered only a scant handful of people in the shop: Jimmy Shae, the VFW barfly Alec had met at Winter Fest; a twenty-something kid he recognised as one of Grace’s regulars who worked as a media technician at the library; and a young couple he didn’t know who’d been heading toward the pharmacy area at the back of the store. The woman’s cough had sounded awful and from the look of the man’s watery eyes, he’d be coming down with it soon enough.

The lanes were already closed for the night, so they were waved over to the customer service desk to check out.

“Evening, Alec. Ellery.” Jacob had been their cashier their first time in the store and had witnessed the cart ghost’s first outing. 

“Cat food run?” Jacob commented as he scanned their items. “If the cat’s not happy, no one gets any peace. At least it’s that way at my house.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

“Annoying things, but not sure I’d be happy without a pet in the house.”

Q stood silently at the counter. Alec assumed El was still not catting because he was annoyed about the food for the Queen of the Cabin. In reality, Q’s focus was trained on the store security camera monitors behind the customer service desk. Two of the cameras were directed at the pharmacy area in the back of the store. This late at night there was only one pharmacist working, no pharmacy tech. 

But the pharmacist, Gwen Cisneros, was not alone, there was a young, blond man behind the counter with her.

He was pointing a gun to her head. 

Another man was standing just outside the pharmacy counter, hand in pocket, obviously grasping a weapon. 

The young couple that just passed them on the way to the pharmacy was walking right into it all. 

“Cat!” Q tugged at Alec’s coat sleeve urgently. “Cat!” 

“What are you going on about? She’ll like these treats.”

Ellery grabbed Alec’s face and turned it toward the monitors, pointing at what he saw. Jacob, too, followed where Q’s finger lead, and his jaw dropped at the images on the screen 

“Fuck! You...” Alec jabbed a finger at Jacob. “Get him and anyone else who is still in here _out_. El... outside with Jacob. Now!” Alec cupped the back of Ellery’s head with a tight squeeze, making him look directly at him. “Go! I’ll deal with this.”

Alec turned, hand reaching for his holstered weapon in the back of his trousers. He was about to head back toward the pharmacy, down one of the side aisles, when Ellery grabbed his arm.

“Go, El! Get out of here!” Alec snapped, trying to shake him off, but Ellery dug into the front pocket of Alec’s coat and pulled out the Airpods he had stashed there. Alec rarely used them. They were part of the kit he always took whenever they left the cabin along with Q’s epi-pen, his back up weapon in an ankle holster, and the knife in his pocket.

It was then that Alec saw Ellery had his own mobile in his hand. It had never been used, for obvious reasons, but was a way El could text him with pre-programmed messages in an emergency should they ever be separated.

He pressed the small Airpod case into Alec’s hand. “Eaarrwig, agennnt.” The words were halting, rusty with disuse. But like a spot of WD-40 frees a key frozen in a lock, the more he spoke, the easier the words came. “Guiiide you.” He pointed up at the cameras, his intent clear. “Gwennnn danger, 006!”

“Yes, sir!” If the circumstances weren’t so dire, he’d have kissed Ellery at that moment, but he’d save his surprise and his pleasure and his hope for later. Agent 006 had just been given an order by his Quartermaster, and he’d see it done. It was all second nature. They’d been here so many times before. 

Alec slipped the AirPods into his ear and answered Ellery’s -- no! -- The _Quartermaster’s_ call on his mobile before slipping the phone into his coat pocket and sliding down the aisle at the far end of the store.

“Jaccobb, everryone to caar paarrk. Police. Go! Go!”

Not waiting to see if his orders were being followed, Q took Jacob’s spot behind the counter and pulled the small laptop that controlled the security feeds to him. Having no AirPods of his own, he activated the speaker on his mobile and set it on the counter next to him. “Take aislllle to break; 20 feet, cut… riiight. Two aisles oo..oover for the couple. Low. Quiii-et. Spitting distaan-ce of pharmmm-acy.” 

“Understood, Quartermaster.” Though quite familiar with the layout of the store, this was as far from a shopping trip as could be, and having Q watch the video feeds, guiding him to the best possible route to get the civilians out and rescue Gwen, would be critical. 

Trevelyan crept down the aisle containing the fruit and veg hoping to approach from the far end where the backup man with the gun watching the pharmacy in Aisle Seven could not see him. 

“Mmmidd-le connec-ttting aisle.... First couple, then to tttar-get.”

“Acknowledged Quartermaster.” It just all fell into place. It felt right and yet... _Alec_ couldn’t think about this breakthrough now. The Double-O and his Quartermaster were in mission mode. 

006 crept past the fresh fruit reaching the crossover middle aisle and cut towards the pharmacy. He quickly came upon the couple choosing cold medications who were completely oblivious to the deadly situation unfolding an aisle away. A finger to his lips and a jerk of his head toward the door had the pair nodding, slightly panicked, and scrambling their way to safety.

“First hoss-tiille forcing Gwen oppp-en cabinets. Second moooving closerr, 006.” Trevelyan could hear the familiar sound of Q’s fingers on a keyboard, likely trying to get a better view of the pharmacy and the far aisles of the store, but 006 had seen what the store had to offer as far as technology was concerned. The old, inferior security system probably wasn’t cooperating because it was in an extreme need of an upgrade. 

006 rounded the far end of Aisle Seven. Hostile Two was twenty feet ahead of him. He began his silent approach. 

Then Jacob called out for Ellery to come with him now. Alec had said to go. 

Trevelyan was within ten feet when Target Two jerked around at the sound of Jacob’s voice to see a Sig Sauer trained on him. In what was more likely a panicked response than deliberate intent, the man fired his weapon.

The gun jammed, but before 006 could get off a shot of his own, the hostile leapt at him, knocking him to the ground. Trevelyan’s weapon skittered across the ground to land at the base of a large cardboard display advertising the latest ‘Super Thin! Extra Sensual!” condoms. The two tussled on the floor, exchanging punches and kicks and body blows as 006 wriggled himself along the tile toward the display and his weapon.

The octopus he was wrestling made it impossible to reach his backup weapon or the knife in his pocket. 

The gunman behind the counter who held Gwen about the neck with his gun pressed to her head shouted to his partner, “Fucking end him already!”

A sudden elbow to his abdomen had 006 gasping for breath, but he managed to palm punch the man’s ears in return. He rolled off, howling in pain. Finally free, 006 spun on his hip on the tile, gripped his weapon and popped off two quick shots into his assailant’s chest.

The bastard was dead before he hit the floor.

“Ended!” Trevelyan muttered, jumped to his feet, and took aim at Gwen’s captor who had her pulled tightly to him as a shield. 

“I don’t really think you want to do this, mate. Didn’t end too well for your buddy, there.” Gun held steady in front of him, 006 took careful aim. “Gwen, just stay still. Let him set the pace of this. It will be fine. “

Whilst Trevelyan calculated his distance to his target and Gwen, Q finally managed to get a better angle on the camera feed to the far end of the store where the freezer cases were. There, to his surprise, was a third hostile making his way to the pharmacy, weapon at the ready, but Q’s warnings through the AirPods for 006 to watch his back went unheeded. 

“No! You’re going to drop your fucking gun, and I’m going to walk out of here with her!” The shouted voice echoed from the back of the store “I’ll blow her brains all over the counter if you don’t fucking back off! I’ll do it!”

“I don’t think so. You have no idea, mate,” 006 scoffed. On the feed, Q watched him step another foot closer, but his voice was barely audible on the mobile’s speaker as though coming from a great distance. It was then Q realised the AirPods had been knocked loose from 006’s ears in the tussle with the dead hostile. Trevelyan had no idea another was sneaking up on him from behind, but a warning shout in this situation could prove to be disastrous for Gwen. 

Huffing with frustration, Q slid out from behind the service desk and headed quickly but quietly toward the back of the store.  
  


* * *

  
  


[ Miriam’s Rhubarb Pie ](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/12316/fresh-rhubarb-pie/) (Miriam adds 1 Tbsp fresh orange juice and 1 tsp pure vanilla extract to her pie filling, however. She also uses an egg wash on the top crust and dusts it with a sprinkling of white sugar before baking.)


	42. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I understand, Officer. Procedures to follow. Reports to file,” Alec said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Thursday!! 
> 
> We left you with a bit of a cliffhanger on Tuesday. Okay, okay, it was a total cliffhanger and most of you have been clinging by your fingernails to the edge of it, waiting for what will happen next. 
> 
> Hopefully, this will satisfy for now. Please let us know what you think. :)

The doors to the ER hadn’t fully opened before Alec Trevelyan, Agent 006, started barking his demands.

“Where is he? Where is that little shite?!”

Sam Fowler, Grace’s assistant manager, leapt up from his chair in the waiting area. Not stupid enough to try and stop him physically, Sam nevertheless jumped in front of Alec, hands up, before he could tear into the medical staff behind the counter.

“He’s fine,” Sam said, but his words seemed to blow past Alec like a quiet breeze. Alec side-stepped around him, but Sam countered. And countered again, mirroring every attempt Alec made to try to get past him until Alec finally grabbed him by his upper arms and lifted him bodily out of the way. Rather than go quietly, however, the much smaller Sam clung to him like a barnacle. 

“Get the fuck off me, Sam,” Alec said, trying to shake him off. “You don’t want to--”

“Alec listen to me. Calm down. Ellery is okay. Ellery. Is. Okay! He wasn’t seriously wounded. He’s going to be fine. Grace is with him.”

“He’s _not_ okay!” Alec felt the rage fueled by his fear begin to escape his control. He finally shook Sam off him and the other man fell to his arse on the ground. “He was shot! His head. His face. Bleeding!”

The security guards at the door stepped out from behind their desks. The other two people in the waiting room stood and backed up into the far corner. Behind the counter, one nurse had picked up the phone and started dialling, the other -- a burly bloke -- looked ready to assist the security guards.

Alec tensed as the guards approached, but he didn’t reach for his weapon. Sam crab-walked backward on the tile, out of the way.

Things started getting loud. Soon they were going to get dangerous. 

“It was a ricochet!!”

The heavy metal doors that led to the treatment rooms hissed open, and Grace Mikelson stepped out from behind them.

“Ellery is fine, Alec,” she said. “I promise you, he’s fine!”

Even though he was a good foot taller than she, Grace walked right up to the raging Double-O, planting a hand directly into his chest, halting his movement. 

“Listen to me! Ellery is fine. You need to get a grip on yourself, Alec Kildale, and calm the hell down.” Grace chided him. “People are going to be talking about this ruckus for decades as it stands, you want to add to it?”

“Where is he?! I need to see him now!” Alec growled at her, but he did listen... vaguely. 

“First you get checked out, too. Then you can see him.”

“Not my blood,” Alec insisted, gesturing at himself, a well-practiced expert at avoiding MI6 medical. 

“Maybe not, but I’m going to insist. Besides, Ellery is sedated. Wouldn’t even know you’re there.” Grace slowly and cautiously moved her hand from his chest to take his elbow so she could take him back to an exam room. 

“He’s alright?”

“Yes, Alec. He’s going to be alright.” The outer doors to the ER hissed open and two of the local police officers entered. 

“We need to ask Mr. Kildale a few more questions, and we have some property to return to him. Will just take a few moments.” Alec rolled his eyes and was about to smart off. This was beginning to feel like he was being interrogated/scolded by Tanner and M. 

“Only if you’ll follow us into the treatment room because he’s not waiting any longer to be checked for injuries.” Grace pushed him towards the treatment room. 

“Bossy Cow ...” Alec muttered under his breath. 

“That’s Admiral Bossy Cow to you,” Grace scoffed. “You don’t get checked over, you don’t see Ellery,” Grace warned him as they all headed to the waiting treatment room. 

An hour and four sutures to his cheek later -- some of the blood had been his after all -- Alec had finally finished with the doctor and the police who, after questioning, returned his primary and backup weapons, each properly licensed and registered under Ruan Kildale’s name. Best they not know that his backup’s backup, which he’d pulled from the glovebox in the Explorer when he’d arrived at the hospital, filled the previously empty holster on his ankle. 

“Might still be a few more questions,” Officer Laura Gallegos admitted. “The Chief’s already taken a look at the video footage, and we have statements from Gwen, Jacob, and the others who were in the store at the time. It’s a justified shoot, but three perps _are_ dead, so …”

“I understand, Officer. Procedures to follow. Reports to file,” Alec said. He was all too familiar with such paperwork and policies, but he was also thinking three steps ahead to what he’d need to do to safeguard Ellery in case things changed. He was already considering his other safehouse options. None of them appealed. Q was thriving here, but that meant nothing if one or both of them ended up behind bars or their actions somehow got back to MI6 and Gareth Mallory.

“You realize Ellery Kildale will be unable to provide any kind of statement,” Grace interjected. She stood against the wall at the head of the exam bed upon which Alec sat. Had been there, largely silent, throughout everything. 

“Yes. It shouldn’t be an issue in any event. On a personal note, however,” Gallegos tucked her notebook and pen into a pocket on her tactical vest and held her hand out to Alec, “Gwen is my cousin. Thank you, Mr. Kildale, for making sure she’ll be able to enjoy Sunday dinner with the family later this afternoon. I owe you a debt.”

“Right place, right time,” Alec muttered, shaking her hand. “You owe me nothing.”

Gallegos smiled enigmatically but nodded and turned on her heel, her partner following close behind, finally leaving Alec alone with Grace.

“Don’t even _think_ about running,” Grace said firmly when they were alone again. “It’s not going to be necessary. We’ll talk to the Chief about keeping it out of the papers. Say the potential attention would be too traumatic on Ellery. If something comes up, Bob, Aunt Miriam, and I will do what’s needed. You saved six lives tonight, Alec. Devil’s Gulch is going to appreciate and remember that. We protect our own.”

“Do you _not_ understand what happened in there tonight, Grace?!” Alec snarled, though he forced himself to maintain a semblance of control. “The Quartermaster appeared. Out of nowhere. In mission mode and he guided me through that mess just as if he was back in Q-Branch on comms. And he about got himself killed in the process.”

“The _Quartermaster_ ? Are you sure Alec? Because that’s _not_ who was treated here in the ER tonight. It was all Ellery.” 

“I saw him, Grace. Heard him. The Quartermaster was there. And don’t bloody tell me not to run because if we need to, we will. His safety is my first priority. Nothing else. And I need to see him _now_!”

“Alright. Fine. He’ll be groggy if he’s even awake, but he’s in the next room.” Alec hopped off the exam table and started towards the door, but Grace reached out and snagged his elbow. Alec flinched, spinning around and had to stop himself from grabbing her. Mission-mode still churning. 

“Alec...” Grace held up her hands in front of her, cautioning him. “Easy... deep breaths for a moment. You don’t want to go barrelling in there and startle him. If he was the Quartermaster earlier, I think you need to be prepared that he isn’t now. At least he wasn’t with me earlier.”

Alec nodded, took a deep breath, and went in to find El. He needed to see with his own eyes that Q was alright. 

Ellery lay on the bed in the ER treatment room, rails up, snuggled down into a couple of blankets. Blood still was smeared in a few places on his face in contrast to his pale skin. There was an obvious trail of stitches going from just above his right temple up into his hairline, disappearing into his dark curls. 

“Shrapnel, you said? A ricochet?”

Grace nodded, coming to stand at Alec’s side. “A fair portion. Doctor Webb spent a good hour picking bits of plastic and metal out of Ellery’s head and face. Nothing deep enough to be worried about. The sutures will take care of everything. Shouldn’t scar. Mild concussion, too.”

Alec was silent for some time, studying the still-sleeping Ellery. “Didn’t see the third gunman. Never even heard him. I must be slipping, and I can’t slip. Not with him at risk. Things would’ve turned out very differently if Q hadn’t warned me.”

“You haven’t called him Q aloud in a long time,” Grace observed.

“I … I can’t explain it, but he _was_ Q tonight. The Quartermaster.” But she was right. Though Q was still a part of him, increasingly, Alec first thought of the man on the bed as Ellery. What was it Grace had said about being prepared for the man Q was becoming?

Sensing his disquiet, Grace reached out between them, took Alec’s hand, and squeezed. He returned it.

Neither took their eyes off Ellery.

“Webb wants to keep him a few more hours for observation. I’ll drive you back when you’re both discharged. Have Sam pick me up in the afternoon after we all get some rest. _Don’t_ argue,” Grace said when she felt him shift next to her to do just that.

“Yes, mum,” he said, dryly.

“Cheeky bastard.” She smiled through her grumble and squeezed his hand again. “Go on. Crawl in with him. I know you want to. I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

Though the bed was slightly wider than those in Medical, it was still a tight fit

Alec slept fitfully for the next few hours. The vision of Q sitting on the tile floor of the grocery, propped against a shelf, blood streaming down his face kept him from ever truly sleeping. An arm wrapped around him, he kept Q spooned tightly to his chest, but he never moved nor woke, and Alec’s worry rose. 

He attempted to dose once more when Grace’s voice woke him. “Webb wants to wake him. One last check and you should be able to take him home then if there are no issues.” 

Alec slowly untangled himself, sliding out the opposite side of the narrow bed, coming around to where he could see Q’s face. 

“Ellery... El?” Alec gently shook his shoulder trying to get him to stir. Alec brushed his hair away from another stitched gash, careful not to hurt him. 

Things had been so day to day over the past weeks ... domestic ... a _life_. Not exactly a normal one, but a life that was comfortable for both of them, or at least Alec thought so. But he realised just now he had never really just stepped back and looked at Ellery. How young, thin, and vulnerable he still was. And now there was this... Alec’s anger threatened to bubble up again. It started to simmer along his spine. He heard Grace’s gentle warning to remain calm, but he couldn’t find it. He needed to--

“Caaat?”

Drugged from the pain medication, it was sluggish and confused, but it was the most welcome sound of Alec’s night and immediately smothered his rising anger. He kissed Ellery’s brow. His cheek. His lips.

Ellery pushed up into the kiss, lingering against Alec’s mouth before they parted, and he shivered a little bit when Alec drew away. Cold. Grace interrupted at that point, draping a heated blanket around Q that she’d pulled from the warming cupboard in the corner of the treatment room.

Q moaned with pleasure and nestled down so only his eyes were visible above the top of his nest of blankets. They were foggy from the medication. Such a different look than when he was in his other world.

“This coming from the man who traipses around naked in the ice and snow,” Alec muttered so only Ellery could hear. “Oh no, you don’t. Stay awake, you! The doctor wants another look, then we can go home.” 

Though the “Cat!” was muffled beneath the blankets, Q was in complete agreement.

Webb’s assessment went quickly and soon the three of them were in the Explorer heading back to the cabin. Alec tried to protest, insisting he was perfectly fine to drive him and Q home and that Grace should go back to her place and rest. It had been a long night.

Five minutes outside the city limits, Alec was still unsettled by the impact of her baleful stare.

“CAT!” The shout from the front seat had Alec looking out the windows for threats approaching from the road and the sky. There was nothing.

“Ellery, what’s wrong?” Grace didn’t take her eyes off the road but grasped his hand on the console between them.

Alec, too, reached out to grab Q’s shoulder as he continued to cat, clearly dismayed by something. “Slow down, El. I can’t figure out what you’re trying to tell me when you go too fast.”

Q took a deep breath, composing himself. “Cat!” This time it was accompanied by a gesture that had Alec groaning with understanding.

“Christ!” He slumped against the back seat and rubbed at his face. Grimacing in pain when he accidentally hit his stitches.

“What is it?” demanded Grace.

Alec met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “We still don’t have any sodding cat food!”


	43. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alec,” she waited until he looked up at her. One thing she could count on from Alec Trevelyan is that he always looked her in the eye when he knew she was about to hammer home a point that would force him to think, to feel, about things differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday, everyone! 
> 
> The next few updates are going to be a bit tense. Though the bulk of the story thus far has had Ellery's psychological trauma as the center point, he's not the only one who has suffered. As such, it might be time for this reminder again ...
> 
> This story deals with complicated issues of mental health. Q's mental illness is a hybrid of several conditions, but that is to in no way negate the experiences of those who suffer from and seek treatment for (or don't seek treatment for) mental illness. Neither should it draw away from the experiences of those who love and care for those with mental illnesses. No one person's experience is the same as another's. We ask you to remember this as well as the fact that this story has been deliberately tagged as "Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings."

“I want to drink.”

Grace looked up at Alec from the book she’d been reading. She’d stayed on at the cabin to help with Ellery who, true to form, collapsed into his post-Quartermaster exhausted state not long after they’d returned from the hospital. Given the sheer magnitude of what he’d done two nights before compounded with the injuries he sustained, it was likely to last a while, and she couldn’t in good conscience leave Alec to tend Ellery alone. For though he’d never admit it, Alec needed to recover, too. It had been a long time since 006 had been as active as he was in saving Gwen Cisneros’ life and while from all reports his prowess in that area was not in question, his emotional response … 

Not ‘I want  **_a_ ** drink.’

‘I want  **_to_ ** drink.’

Bit of a difference there.

Grace knew he’d given up keeping alcohol in the cabin months ago. “Too great a risk,” he’d told her at the time. “Need a clear head to keep Ellery safe. Can’t do that if I’m pissed every night.”

As a Navy psychiatrist for over 20 years, she’d treated patients whose internal demons from combat experiences wore faces so loathsome they couldn’t be faced head-on, and many turned to alcohol, and other things, to escape them. Or at least to silence their screaming for a little while. It never worked, of course, but it wasn’t surprising Alec had turned to drink to try to manage his. That he’d given it up so readily to take care of Ellery, however, was. 

It probably shouldn’t have been, though.

Grace, nevertheless, had stepped up her game in providing him therapy that looked  _ nothing  _ like therapy. Amazing what a little chat over a cup of coffee can do for the mind … and the heart. Had taken Alec months along with her rather dramatic PTSD diagnosis to Gareth Mallory for him to figure that bit out, but aside from a rather formidable glare followed by a muttered ‘interfering cow’ the morning after their dust-up with MI6 -- neither of which she took personally -- they continued their coffee klatch chats per usual. 

“Can almost fucking taste it.” Alec clarified, eyes darting away from hers after he’d done so. 

Grace slipped a bookmark into place and lay her novel on the table next to the comfortable chair she sat in. “Do we need coffee for you to feel comfortable having this conversation with me?” She was not being facetious.

Alec knew it and shook his head. 

“You’ve done exceeding well with just the occasional social drink. What’s changed?”

Alec didn’t respond immediately, so Grace continued. “Going dry suddenly isn’t easy for anyone, but I do understand why you felt you had to, Alec.”

“There are always things that poke at that need. Sometimes when we least expect it.” Grace paused momentarily as Alec rose and began pacing the room. “You and Ellery have both had so much happen in your lives. Changes and stressors, but you’ve been addressing them quite well, all things considered. What’s brought it to the surface again?”

Alec scrubbed at his face, two day’s worth of stubble rough against his hand. “It’s … Christ! How do I explain this?” 

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” To prove her point, Grace tucked her legs beneath her on the chair and pulled a throw over her lap, getting comfortable with the hopes he would, too.

He paced the line across the floor in front of the telly that Ellery was so used to using. Ellery who slept like the dead upstairs. Part of Alec wanted -- no,  _ needed  _ \-- to be up there watching him, but Grace insisted they take this break. That El would be fine on his own for a little while with Cat to guard him. Alec knew she was right. Logically, he couldn’t watch him every second of every day, that was insane. Emotionally, though?

Emotions.

Fuck emotions!

That’s what all this sitting around tonight had brought to the surface. Too much fucking time to think. Never a good thing. Not for a Double-O. 

But ...

“It’s different this time,” he realised. 

“What is?”

“The mission.” He gestured at the cabin and in the general direction of Devil’s Gulch. Everything that encompassed the assignment he’d taken on to protect The Quartermaster. He’d been in full 00 mode two nights before, something that was a  _ normal _ way of life for him. In many ways, he had slipped back into that version of himself as effortlessly as a spare clip into his Sig, and yet, what happened at the grocery had been unlike any other mission assigned to him by MI6, leaving him ... fuck if he could put a better label on it, but it was  _ different _ . This had involved protecting people he knew, innocent bystanders of a crime. Protecting Ellery. The man who was so much more than a PPO assignment. The man for whom he had evolving emotions. 

“I never took a lot of downtime between assignments. Always long missions, too. Six, eight, one time 18 months. Deep cover, except this last year. Would go out almost immediately again afterward.”

“That’s a lot of time being someone else,” Grace replied. He’d shared with her long ago the nature of his deep-cover assignments, the personas he’d developed, his skill at fully submerging Alec Trevelyan to become whomever he needed to be for the task at hand.

“I was just barely on home soil, 45 minutes inside Six, when Q ...”

Alec waved a hand towards the stairs leading up to where Ellery slept. 

“I suppose Tanner proposed the right idea for my retirement because PPO mode kicked in immediately for me with Ellery. You know the rest, Grace.” Alec flopped back down in the chair next to her again. Hand scrubbed across his face with a sigh, head dropping back against the high back of the chair. 

“Alec, it’s not unusual that things are catching up with you. I can’t imagine being  _ on  _ for years on end with no break. No time to unwind, be yourself.”

He cracked open an eye and looked at her. “Myself... not quite sure who that is sometimes, Grace.”

She let him settle a bit and waited. He didn’t disappoint her.

“I want to drink because it locks them in their fucking cages until I can get my shite under control again. And … fuck!” He jumped to his feet again. He felt very much not in control at the moment. He could almost hear the demons rattling at the bars. “I was always active. Always on the go. Always ‘on’. Another mission following on the heels of the last. But this ... it’s the same but … but it’s  _ not _ .” He flopped back into the chair again, shoulders slumped, cradling his face in his hands. 

Christ, he needed to find his control again!

“Alec,” she waited until he looked up at her. One thing she could count on from Alec Trevelyan is that he always looked her in the eye when he knew she was about to hammer home a point that would force him to think, to feel, about things differently.

“Have you ever considered that  _ it’s  _ not the same anymore because  _ you  _ are not the same anymore?”

He’d considered it. Said as much to Miriam the other night, but … 

Fuck.

Grace uncurled from her chair and slipped onto the floor at Alec’s feet, and waiting until he gave tacit permission, took his hands in hers. It was not remotely professional, but then not much about her relationship with these two men was anymore. Maybe it never had been in the first place. 

His hands told the tale of his emotional state. Tight and rigid beneath hers, she ran her thumbs over the tops of them until the tension eased and the set of his shoulders slid from defeated to relaxed.

Her words were quiet but pointed. “Hard. Cold. Calculating. Tense. On guard. Harsh. Hyper-focused. That was the Alec Trevelyan who walked into my shop all those months ago with a traumatized, practically catatonic, genius by the hand. He was a bit of an ass, to be honest, but for all his hard lines and rigidity he was always …” she searched for the right word, “tender with the man at his side. That’s how I knew there was far more to him than what he showed.”

Alec didn’t know what to say to that. Grace didn’t give him the opportunity to, though.

“But that’s not the Alec Trevelyan sitting here with me now. Alec, you are more trusting … no, that’s not quite it,” she paused, searching for the right word. “Settled is more accurate. You’re  _ settled  _ in yourself and in this place. I mean look at the people you’ve let inside, who you’ve let get to know Alec, not whatever persona you have to portray.  _ You _ . You have a home,” she nodded at the room in general, “and a lover,” she glanced upward to where Ellery slept above stairs. “Things that you would never have permitted yourself as a Double-O. Have you ever thought that maybe it’s  _ 006  _ who’s the persona, and this,” Grace squeezed his hands, “ _ this _ is Alec Treveylan?”

Fuck. He hadn’t ever looked at it like that before, and it was a bit of an overwhelming notion, but … “I don’t know... I just don’t know Grace. “ Alec sighed, shaking his head. “If  _ this  _ is Alec Trevelyan, he hasn’t been around in a long,  _ long  _ time.”

“What happened the other night was in some ways just as significant for you as it was for Ellery because, you’re right, it was different and so are you, and it’s going to take a bit for you to process all of that. You tend to be impatient with your emotions, but you  _ have  _ to resist that here. Try to give yourself the time to do that.” Alec rolled his eyes and grumbled a bit under his breath because, again, she was right. With a final squeeze, Grace released his hands and stood. “Speaking of time, it’s getting late and you’re exhausted. Too little sleep these past few days. When Ellery wakes, you’ll be in PPO mode again, won’t you.”

“Of course. Protect the primary.” Alec replied automatically. 

“So that means you need to head upstairs and sleep, also. Plenty of time to talk more about all of this later. Go,” Grace gestured towards the stairs. “I’ll check on him before I go to bed and again when I get back in the morning. See how he’s doing.”

Alec shook his head. “I want you in your own bed tonight, Grace. Running between here and town in the small hours so you can get everything baked each day for the shop and ready for Sam … you have your own life. We’ll be okay here. And if we’re not, I’ll call.” 

“You’re sure?”

“I am. Right!” Alec slapped his thighs and stood, crossing to the kitchen. Boxing up his mood and ignoring the rattling cages, for now, he pulled a glass container from the fridge. “I’ll heat up a bit of Bob's chili for Ellery’s snack. He’ll probably wake soon, be peckish before he passes out again. Not award-winning, but he’ll eat it.” 

A call from Grace after they’d arrived back at the cabin the other night had seen Sam kindly rushing out with a bag of cat kibble from his own stash and a container of the _second-place_ chili Bob had provided to sustain them all for a bit. None had remained of Alec’s offering.

Grace raised an eyebrow. “I’ll sleep when he does,” he promised. “We’ll be okay.” 

“I’ll go grab my things, then,” Grace said, reasonably satisfied with his answer. “And be sure to call Bob when you get a chance,” she added over her shoulder when she was halfway up the stairs. “He’s holding onto your trophy for the time being, and asserting your bragging rights is always good for the soul.”

  
  
  
  
  


The path up to the cabin was a tad damp from the melting snow, but it helped silence his footfalls. He wasn’t overly concerned about being heard, though. These targets were significantly less of a challenge than his usual assignments.

“It is, of course, regrettable that the doctor needs to be a part of this, but we have no way of knowing what information has been shared with her. It makes her a threat, and that threat needs to be retired along with the primary,” he’d been told during his briefing. He’d wrapped up everything in Kingston but hadn’t yet headed home. Better that they’d dealt with this on the phone anyway. More expedient. 

“Retired. Is that what we’re calling it now, sir?”

“A bit kinder, don’t you think?”

He didn’t really care what they called it: retirement, elimination, termination, assassination. It was all the same to him. Another target. Another assignment. And he  _ always  _ completed his assignments.

He slipped noiselessly up the steps and pressed himself into a corner of the porch. Cloaked in darkness, he had an excellent view of his marks inside the cabin. His secondary target sat in a chair close to the fireplace, reading a book she’d never finish. His primary lay prone on the sofa, a Siamese cat on his chest. He seemed to be talking to it, unimpressed. The conversation would have a very abrupt end.

Pressed up tight against the wall, he slowly crept along until he reached the outer door at the far end of the porch. The latch slowly depressed, swinging the door open just enough for him to slip inside the kitchen area of the cabin. 

Silenced weapon in hand -- no need to draw unwanted attention to his mission’s parameters -- he stepped into the opening between kitchen and lounge area and took his first shot. 

The woman slid without a sound from the chair to the floor, book still in hand, a single bullet hole between the eyes. 

The man jumped to his feet, dumping the cat off his chest to the floor with a thud. With his weapon balanced in both hands, green eyes stared, shocked, at him. Dark curls fell across the thin face as he backed away, pressed against the television playing some nonsensical cooking show. The cat curled around his feet, protesting its interrupted nap, completely unaware of the danger. 

The young man stammered, searching for words. And finally finding them, “Cat? Cat?!”

He pulled the trigger. 

The muffled thwop of the shot was like a cannon going off inside his mind, and Alec jerked awake, a strangled “NO!” burst from his throat. The bedclothes tangled about his body, he struggled against the fabric, desperate to be free of their clinging grasp as rage and grief warred within him. 

Just as he escaped his prison, someone grabbed him from behind. He reached around, gripped his attacker about the waist, rolled, and threw them from the bed where they crashed hard against the wall. Alec leapt to his feet atop the bed, Sig in hand, aimed, and was about to pull the trigger when …

“Alec?! Cat! ALEC???!!! CAT!!!!”

He was doused in the face with water from a glass hurled his way, and when he wiped the wet away he saw …

Oh God, no!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	44. The Real Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Christ, El ... I’m so sorry! I didn’t...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tough set of events for Alec and Q in the last chapter, and so many fabulous comments for what they endured! Thank you!
> 
> And since we're not done with everything from the last chapter, a familiar reminder ...
> 
> This story deals with complicated issues of mental health. Q's mental illness is a hybrid of several conditions, but that is to in no way negate the experiences of those who suffer from and seek treatment for (or don't seek treatment for) mental illness. Neither should it draw away from the experiences of those who love and care for those with mental illnesses. No one person's experience is the same as another's. We ask you to remember this as well as the fact that this story has been deliberately tagged as "Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings."

Ellery lay crumpled at the base of the wall where Alec had … thrown him. Not even the darkened room could keep him from seeing wide, green eyes filled with dread or the blood that seeped down the side of El’s face from beneath the bandage on his forehead from stitches broken loose in their tussle.

Alec shuffled on his knees to the end of the mattress, ready to go to his aid, but Ellery twisted into a tight ball and wrapped his arms about his head with a whimper of fear that tore at Alec’s gut like the tines of a garden tiller. He pressed his hand to his stomach to push away the almost physical pain it caused him, and it was then Alec realised he still held his weapon in his hand.

“I’m putting it down, Ellery,” he said softly, telegraphing his movements though El couldn’t see them at the moment. “Right here on your table. I’m going to come down to you, now.” He slid off the edge of the bed and was crawling toward him when Ellery flinched at his approach. A vicious hiss sounded to Alec’s right, and before he knew it, Cat leapt atop Q’s hip, ears back flat against her head, tail lashing wildly behind her, blue eyes narrowed, ready to attack.

“I didn’t mean to...” Alec moved a tad closer to Ellery and received a clawed gash on his forearm for his efforts. Alec cursed, but his objective was Ellery, bloodied cat markings on his arm could wait. 

“El ... El ... Ellery ...” but his hands remained wrapped about his head, eyes refusing to meet Alec’s. “Christ, El... I’m so sorry. I didn’t...”

Alec reached out cautiously, he could see Cat’s claws extending and retracting from her toes as she debated another attack, and carefully laid a hand on one of his ankles. Ellery tried to pull away, but Alec persisted, hand remaining in contact with him. Gentle but undeniably there. 

“Ellery... I need to look at your head. You’re bleeding again.” If he could just get him in closer, Alec could try to explain. Fucking nightmare. Fuck if he had... Don’t think about that now, Trevelyan. Primary needs attention. 

“Caattt...” Ellery whispered, barely audible. Cat made her presence known again with a blood-chilling howl worthy of any horror movie soundtrack.

Ignoring Cat’s screaming, Alec took to stroking the fine bones in Ellery’s foot and ankle, trying to soothe him with gentle caresses. When the tension in his foot eased somewhat, Alec risked another Cat attack and moved his hand up El’s calf and thigh. The same, slow, gentle movements, and before long, Alec felt those muscles relax, too. Cat leapt off Q’s hip to curl up near his head. She’d stopped her howling, and her ears were no longer flat against her skull, but her tail still thrashed and her eyes never left Alec’s face.

“I’m so sorry, El. I didn’t mean it.  _ Any  _ of it. It was a nightmare. I didn’t know … I’d rather hurt myself than hurt you. But I did, and Christ! I’m so fucking sorry.” 

Sorry didn’t begin to cover it. In his post-nightmare, demon-chasing, cold and calculating Double-O haze, he’d come a hair’s breadth away from shooting Ellery. But he absolutely could not think about that now, the guilt would overwhelm him and Ellery was hurt. Ellery was scared. His primary came first. Always. Alec continued with his ministrations, and he didn’t know if it was the caresses or the soothing words or the apologies he continued to mutter, but Ellery uncurled by degrees and by the time Alec was carding his fingers through Q’s hair, Ellery was looking up at him with unflinching but wary eyes. 

Wary. 

Not fearful.

Alec helped Ellery sit up against the wall. He looked like Hell. His hair was a riot, and though it didn’t appear to be bleeding actively anymore, the side of his face was coated with blood from the torn sutures. Alec wanted to wrap El up in his arms -- to soothe him or himself? -- but knew better than to get any closer just now. That decision was something that would need to come from Ellery. He scooted back and sat on his heels a few feet distant. He kept his arms loose on his lap and tried to push the rest of his tension out of his body so he would appear as unthreatening as possible.

Ellery assessed him across the distance. Alec watched a myriad of expressions play out on El’s face before it blanked completely. 

“Cat?” It was quiet, barely a ghost of a sound in the air between them, but Alec had no trouble interpreting the tone. 

What the fuck was that?!

“I’m so sorry, El. I didn’t mean it. It was a nightmare. Was so far under that... “ Alec wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince it was all a horrible mistake. 

“M had sent me on a “retirement” mission. Not me... but it was me.” Alec scrubbed a hand roughly through his hair in frustration. He didn’t know if sharing what his subconscious had tortured him with was a good idea or not, but he  _ had  _ to explain. “I know that makes no sense, but ... I didn’t know who the target was. Didn’t care. It was a mission. A job.” Alec took a deep breath trying to compose himself. Something he’d never given a second thought about before, taking out his target, was suddenly throwing him. 

“First mark was simple. Down in a heartbeat. Never knew I was there. Second mark reacted. Saw me.” Alec’s voice changed. Was hitched. Raw. Emotions that never surfaced in mission mode for a Double-O. 

“Green eyes... dark curls... that word. It means nothing and yet  _ everything _ . Cat. It was you, Ellery.”

Alec looked away, unable to meet the penetrating green of those eyes.

“And I pulled the trigger”

The soft gasp of alarm sliced deeper than any knife wound he’d taken in the field, but it caused him only half the pain of the long, tormenting silence that followed. Though he tried, Alec couldn’t bring himself to look back at Ellery. Guilt weighed down his heart and tore at his gut, but the shame that accompanied it pinioned his soul. The demons he’d been unable to beat back in his subconscious taunted his weakness now that he was awake and rejoiced in the damage they had done. That he had  _ let  _ them do. His logical mind, which sounded suspiciously like Grace, told him there was little he could do about them whilst asleep. That the subconscious mind had a way of making things far worse in a nightmare than they ever were in real life. But he was a Double-O. His ability to keep himself under control, to never falter, had kept him alive more times than he could put a number to, but now, when it mattered the most …

His self-excoriation was cut short by a slightly pained grunt followed by a soft meow. Alec turned then, to see Ellery brace himself against the wall as he pulled himself to his feet. He dabbed at the blood on his face with the corner of his wrist, looked at it, and wiped it off on his naked hip. His first few steps were stiff, the injuries he’d sustained at the grocery store now compounded by the hurts he’d taken crashing into the wall, but he pushed forward until he was standing next to his bedside table.

And the gun that sat atop it.

Ellery traced the lines of the Sig with the tip of his finger. Then he picked it up, turning it and his head this way and that, studying it from all angles. Alec stiffened and readied himself to jump, the memories of the last time Q had held a gun in his hand all too fresh in Alec’s memory, but he held still and watched as Ellery walked past him, around the end of the bed with the weapon in hand until he reached Alec’s table on the far side. Bending over to look beneath, Q slipped the gun into the holster Alec had secured there after El had catted his disapproval with him always keeping it beneath his pillow at night. Reckless and not worthy of such a fine bit of craftsmanship, he had indicated.

Weapon secured, Ellery returned and knelt at Alec’s side. Alec swallowed hard but didn’t move when Ellery reached out and touched his face, running his fingertips along the lines of his eyes and nose and cheeks and jaw in the same way he had the gun. His discomfort grew under Q’s clinical, dispassionate gaze, but this time he met it head-on. 

What if all El saw now when he looked at Alec was another weapon? A human one to wield the mechanical? 

Then his thumb brushed Alec’s lips and the detached, clinical, impersonal look faded from Q’s eyes.

“Alec.” El cupped Alec’s face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “Alec,” he said again and slid onto his hip, leaning into Alec’s side, one hand drifting down on Alec’s shoulder. 

Alec’s arms instinctively wrapped around Ellery, and he was so bloody thankful El didn’t so much as flinch when he did so. His heart nearly burst in his chest with what happened next.

“T-t-t-rust, Alec. T-rust.” Ellery said no more, but then he really didn’t need to. He curled in closer and was soon sound asleep again, the steady rise and fall of him breathing within the circle of Alec’s arms spinning the locks on the cages in Alec’s mind. 

  
  
  



	45. Unburdening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe you aren’t giving him enough credit as to how he sees the big picture," Grace said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> Happy 007Fest 2020!!! 
> 
> For this Joyous Month of July when we celebrate all that is Bond, Boffin and I will be posting four updates per week. With the exception of this week (where we are posting our extra chapter on Wednesday), we will update on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. 
> 
> We hope this works for you. :)
> 
> Remember, comments are love, but in July, they also earn you points if you are participating in The Fest. So comment away, dear ones!!

“I don’t understand it, Grace,” Alec sat at the kitchen table, both hands wrapped around his coffee mug so tightly that Grace thought he would shatter it. She had never seen Alec so off-kilter and thrown by something. 

“Once El calmed, settled... it was as if nothing had happened. Like it was an everyday happening. Dosed back off again.”

“And you say ‘trust’ was the new word he found?” Grace had got up to refill her cup, leaning back against the kitchen counter to observe Alec’s reactions. 

“Yes. But only spoken that one time. You’d never have known that a few minutes earlier, I had almost...” hesitating, he could not even bring himself to say it. The fact that he had come close, frighteningly close, to shooting Ellery. 

A kill shot.

“Maybe you aren’t giving him enough credit as to how he sees the big picture. We’ve forgotten that, as Quartermaster, Ellery knows and understands a great deal about what is involved in being an agent and its effects on the human psyche.” Grace sipped her coffee in thought. “In his time as Quartermaster, think of how many agent’s lives and missions he has been witness to and how it affected not just the agent but him also. How many horrifying things did he guide  _ you  _ through in your missions together? How many others were done by his hand?”

The mug Alec had been bringing to his mouth stopped mid-air and clunked slightly when he sat it on the table again without having taken a sip. “I … I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that before.” He looked at Grace. “Considering what happened to him, I should have done.”

Grace shook her head. “Alec, don’t take that on yourself, too. You’re not responsible for his break. Look at it this way, though. Among other things, Ellery is suffering from complete exhaustion from his experiences working with Six. Emotional, intellectual, physical, all of it. And though you and he didn’t cross paths until recently, you’ve only been in the Service a few more years than he.”

“Four or five.” He hadn’t really kept track. “Seems … endless sometimes.”

“And that’s my point!” Grace sat down at the table again and pushed his coffee mug aside to take his hands as she had done the night before. “You’re just as exhausted as he is, and it’s only now that it’s starting to become apparent because of your new circumstances. The walls you’ve held in place all these years to keep those demons at bay aren’t weakening, but they are shifting. The tools you used to shore them up — drink, sex, avoidance, endless missions — don’t work anymore, but you’ve started using better ones, ones that won’t cage the demons but help you let go of them so you’re not burdened by their weight as much.”

“Like what?”

Grace sat back in her chair, and Alec tried not to be annoyed by her tolerant grin. “Who called me at 6:30 this morning saying, ‘I fucked up and I think I need to talk about it?’”

Oh. Yeah.

“There’s one thing you haven’t said about last night, yet, though. You want to, I can see it, but you can’t bear to think about it.”

Alec shifted uncomfortably in his chair. 

Grace pushed. “What happened after you tossed Ellery out of the bed? What did you do, Alec?”

He leapt from his seat, pacing again … always fucking pacing, get his thoughts straight. Alec pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, trying to push the image of Ellery’s scared face from his mind but it only made it more clear. More vivid. Green eyes staring … 

“Staring down the barrel of my Sig. Pointed at him. Finger squeezing. He shouted my name. It wasn’t enough. The water … he threw it at me. It snapped me out before I could …”

“Could?” 

Alec was startled by how quietly she asked the question. It shocked him, quite frankly. Or rather, shocked him out of his rising panic. He was a Double-O. Some things had changed, that much was true, but being a Double-O was still at the core of who he was, and Double-Os did not flinch from the difficult and there was no such thing as impossible. 

He stopped his pacing and turned to look at her head-on, squaring his shoulders he said, “Before I could take the shot. Before I could kill Ellery.”

“He’s up there right now, Alec,” she glanced at the ceiling. “Alive. Wounds tended, by  _ you _ , after you got him back in bed. Sleeping peacefully because he  _ trusts  _ you.”

“I still don’t see how he could forgive me for--”

“Because in his eyes there’s nothing to forgive. Look, we’ll probably never know what was the ultimate straw for Ellery’s break, but from everything you’ve said of him and everything I’ve witnessed first hand since, we know two things about him, he has boundless compassion and his ability to compartmentalize is unparalleled.”

“I know that, but I’m not sure what that means here.”

“It means that he understands the demons first hand because he has his own. It means that he hates you’re suffering because of yours. It means that he knows the demons, his and yours, are going to come out at unexpected times and in ways neither of you will like. It means that once he had a chance to process what happened, he knew it wasn’t  _ you  _ who lashed out. It wasn’t the man he  _ trusts _ .”

Alec chewed on that for a moment. And while he was still very unsettled with everything that happened, he supposed what she said made sense. As usual.

“So what do I do now?”

“Keep doing what you’re doing with me and with him, but with one addition.”

“What’s that?”

Grace took up her cup again and leaned back in her chair. “You’ve always trusted 006. You need to learn to trust Alec Trevelyan, too.”

Fuck.

“That’s … not … that’s not going to be easy." He picked at a knot in the wooden tabletop with his fingernail, then jerked his hand away when he saw he was fidgeting. "Trusting a man I don’t know.”

“Easy? No. Necessary, though. Alec, the only way you’ll be able to do all you want for Ellery is to do all you can for yourself, first.” 

Bloody buggering fuck.  
  
  
  



	46. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Shite! Shite! Shite! SHITE!!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have added several new readers to our ranks in the last few days, and we can't say enough about how excited we are to have you! Don't forget to hit that subscribe button for the story. Makes it a lot easier to get notifications on when new chapters go up. :) It's our second favorite button right after the "Comment" button that you all are so fabulous at using. More than once we have seen others say that reading the comments for this story is just as much of an experience (in a good way) as reading the story itself. 
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> We tend to agree. :)

“M was not pleased with the latest report on Q’s progress. He’s expecting more,” Moneypenny sighed into the phone, babbling at Alec. “It doesn’t help matters that all the Double-Os have been raising hell with Tanner about Q’s unavailability. Seems they are not at all pleased knowing their handlers don’t have Q running everything in the background, backing them up all the time.”

“Well, they can just fuck off. They have their handlers. Well trained ones. Well trained by  _ Q _ ,” Alec snapped back at her, immediately feeling bad about it. It wasn’t Moneypenny’s fault. Alec took another gulp of his coffee as he paced on the front porch. 

“They do. But those handlers aren’t Q. You know exactly why they are complaining, Alec.”

“I know... I know... but he just can’t yet Moneypenny. Not ready.”

“That’s what the latest reports say also. M isn’t completely convinced though. He’s starting to talk about demanding another opinion on Q’s status.”

“No!” Alec was adamant. The front door swung open, and Ellery joined him on the front porch. Clad in pajama pants and a hoodie, he was wrapped in a duvet. Mornings were still brisk, but spring had finally arrived. 

“At least you have socks on, you little shite,” Alec muttered at him as he flopped down in a chair wrapping the duvet around him. Alec ran a hand through Q’s curls, lifting his fringe to check the wound on his forehead. Things seemed to be healing well. He’d not been able to replace El’s broken sutures but a bit of superglue and some butterfly bandages had done the trick. Always worked well enough in the field. 

“Cat....” Ellery murmured, looking at him with pleading eyes, nuzzling into Alec’s palm. 

Feed me? Tea me?

“Alec?” Moneypenny questioned, apparently hearing a bit of what was being said on his end. 

“Slight interruption, Moneypenny. Hang on. Back in a mo’.” Alec laid the phone down, intending on grabbing a cuppa and a warmer jacket for Ellery, not happy with just the duvet and the hoodie. 

“Cat...” Ellery pleaded woefully again. 

“Don’t give me that look and quit moaning, you little shite. You’re fine. I’ll get you a cuppa now and breakfast in a bit. Stay there. Don’t you dare leave the porch.” 

Moneypenny heard the rustling sound of the phone moving. Then... slight breathing on the other end. 

“Alec? Are you back?” Moneypenny asked. She tapped her nails on the top of her desk, eyeing the mound of paperwork she still had to get through that afternoon. “Alec?” She paused and listened,  _ someone  _ was there on the other end. “Q? Is that you, love?”

“Cat?” Came the whispered reply. 

“Oh, Q! It’s so good to hear your voice,” Moneypenny gushed, steamrolling right past the oddity of the one word Q had spoken to her. “I didn’t pressure Alec about talking to you all these months, but I was starting to wonder if I’d ever hear your dulcet tones again, darling. All we ever get is that Russian bear’s take on things. Tell me, love, how are you doing?” 

Alec stopped in the kitchen on his way to the coat closet beneath the stairs to flick on the kettle and pull a pair of mugs from the cupboard to make tea. It had been six days since the incident at the grocery store, four since his nightmare -- he’d had none since, thank God -- but yesterday was really the first day he could say Q was back to normal. Bringing The Quartermaster back, though necessary, hadn’t been good for Ellery. Not in the least. The utter exhaustion. The lingering confusion once Q was able to stay awake for more than 15 minutes at a pop. All of it exacerbated by the fallout from Alec’s nightmare, and Alec would do whatever was necessary to ensure none of it ever happened again.

As far as their … relationship was concerned, though, it seemed Ellery had truly moved on from the initial fear he’d felt from the post-nightmare abuse. It had taken Alec a bit longer to recover, even with Grace’s sage words, but he followed her advice and took his cues from Q’s behaviour. It took a bit of work, but he had been largely able to tamp down his guilt and shame, and it seemed things had got back to their version of normal, as a result.

Now that he was lucid, Alec and Ellery would need to go into town. Thanks to Sam Fowler and his moggie Blackberry, they still had enough cat food for a day or two, but Callie was back from her trip to San Diego, and it was time to get Cat he--

Cat.

Cat?!

“Bugger me!”

The coat Alec had grabbed slipped from his fingers, forgotten. He dashed to the porch where he had left Ellery alone with a mobile on an open line and Eve Moneypenny on the other end of it.

Shite! Shite! Shite! SHITE!!!

Alec burst out the door onto the porch. Sure enough, Q had the mobile to his ear. He had curled up in a ball of boffin on the chair, still wrapped in his duvet. He looked up as Alec approached, eyes wide behind his glasses, and a slight, questioning frown on his lips.

“Cat?” It was hesitant and held a degree of self-doubt Alec never wanted to hear in Ellery’s voice again, no matter how few words he ever said again. He continued to listen for a moment to whatever Eve was babbling on the other end and then held out the mobile to Alec.

Alec took the phone. “Kettle’s probably boiled by now,” he said gently. Q looked like he was ready to bolt. “Want to go make us a cuppa?” 

Ellery took a deep breath and nodded. He uncurled himself from the chair and headed for the door.

“Hey.” Alec curled an arm around Q when he drew even with him. “Everything’s fine. I’ve got this.” Alec pressed a kiss to his temple, careful to avoid his laceration. “I see you,” he whispered into Ellery’s skin.

The frown curled upward slightly, and he nuzzled Alec’s chin in response before disappearing inside the cabin, leaving the door open behind him.

Alec took a deep breath and brought the mobile to his ear. “So … You have questions.”

He came back inside 10 minutes later, angered by how the conversation with Eve had ended and worried about what state he would find Ellery in after his contact with Moneypenny. 

Moneypenny was concerned for Q, of course, she was, but Mallory demanded progress. Eve finally understood that something had truly changed in her best friend, but Mallory just wanted his Quartermaster back and this situation resolved. 

Alec stopped just inside the door. 

The cabin was quiet. 

Duvet abandoned on the kitchen floor. 

Kettle was off. 

Two cups of tea steeping on the table.

Turning cold. 

“El... Ellery?” Alec began to search the cabin. 

Room to room. 

Downstairs clear. 

“Ellery....” Should have never sent him inside alone, Alec thought as he bounded up the stairs, two by two. Alec pulled up short, finding El standing pressed up against the bedroom window. 

Silent. Staring out at whatever Ellery saw of the world at times. Cat was curled up on their bed. Watching.

“Ellery...” Alec stepped up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist, again so grateful he didn’t flinch or pull away, wondering what was going on his head. “It’s going to be alright. Moneypenny was glad to talk to you. She misses you.”

Q sighed, leaned against Alec, and rested the back of his head on his shoulder. “You miss her, too.” Alec curled his other arm around El and they stood there together, watching the still early morning light fill the valley beyond the lake.

“You don’t miss  _ it _ , though. MI6. The work. The insanity.”

It didn’t come right away, Q’s reply. He thought about his answer, but eventually, “Cat.” 

No. He didn’t miss it.

“I don’t either. Tired of living undercover for months at a time. Over a decade of it. Never knowing who to trust. Always having to be someone I’m not. Told Grace I’m not sure who Alec Trevelyan is anymore. Not when I’m there. Working for them. He’s--  _ I’m _ closer to Ruan Kildale than any cover I’ve ever used for the SIS. I think … I think I might be  _ me  _ here. With you.” 

Though he  _ really  _ wanted to, Alec could no longer blame Grace that he shared what he was thinking, nor for the relative ease with which it came. At least with Ellery. Though he’d been a recalcitrant student -- bloody-minded, really -- Alec had finally learned the lessons about being open when it mattered and intentionally applied them now. 

He had to. 

The Quartermaster’s appearance the other night seemed to be an anomaly caused by Ellery’s instinctive need to save lives, or so Grace had theorised, but it had cost him. Q had slept for over 56 hours afterward, rousing, per usual, for only the basic necessities, but as they had been in the hospital, the words were gone when he finally woke. Almost as if they’d never been said at all. Ellery no longer seemed able to access whatever within him had pulled those halting, fractured, stuttering words into being. Critical words. Words that had saved lives. Q spent most of yesterday desperately to find them again but had been left vexed and near tears for his efforts. They clearly couldn’t count on it ever happening again, and given the physical and emotional toll it had taken on Ellery, part of Alec hoped it never would, but he would cling to the echo of them in his mind for the rest of his days. 

Ellery’s silence wasn’t his choice. Alec had watched him fight for the words he wanted to use. Saw his frustration and the inevitable retreat ‘away’ when they failed to appear. He couldn’t even write them out. ‘Cat’ and coding seemed to be the only languages Q spoke now. 

Alec’s silence had always been his choice. From an early age, he had learned the dangers of trusting the wrong person. How sharing his feelings only gave people a weapon to use against him. A reality that had only grown more acute with his job, so he’d stopped sharing anything beyond whatever backstory he’d developed for his covers. Brilliant bits of fiction honed to perfection over the years, but not a bit of it the real Alec Trevelyan. He’d not even trusted James the way he trusted Ellery or the way he was intentionally choosing to trust Grace  _ because _ of Ellery. 

He and El couldn’t both be silent, and only Alec had the words. He would ask the questions and do his best to interpret Q’s answers. They had decisions to make, and they couldn’t do that without talking … in their own way.

“They want you back. Want both of us back.” Alec propped his chin atop Q’s head. “Do you want to go back?”

Ellery stiffened.

“Yeah. I don’t either.”

Q grabbed Alec’s arms and wrapped them around his chest. Alec held him tight.

Alec wasn’t entirely sure how much he could trust Eve. She clearly cared about Q, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do what she felt was best for him. But after that phone call? He’d come clean about ‘cat’ and Ellery’s selective mutism, though he’d managed to talk around her questions about Grace’s clinical explanation of Q’s other world. For now, Alec and Moneypenny agreed that keeping Q far away from the influence of MI6 was paramount. 

But if she changed her opinion about what was best for Ellery? Would she become a threat rather than an ally?

“We’re not going back, El. We’re never going back,” Alec decided, knowing it was the best one for them. “I’d like for us to stay here, but it may not be a choice. Have to be ready to run if we’re ever compromised.” 

Ellery sighed, his nod indicating his agreement. He turned in Alec’s arms where he remained for some time. 

Alec Trevelyan may have been the agency’s most unpredictable rogue agent, but when it came to planning out a mission, he was beyond any other’s expertise. That agent was active in full force over the next few days. 

He planned, plotted, and spent time going over each aspect of a ‘bug out plan’ with Ellery, hoping that some of it filtered into his distant world and was remembered. 

Alec talked and Ellery catted about a code word. An agreed-upon signal to leave, no matter what. 

Where to go. 

Who to trust. 

He made sure Ellery could handle the ATV if needed. And they packed and repacked a ‘go’ bag so Ellery knew exactly what was in the duffle they would always keep by the back door. 

Alec had just placed it there when security warnings on the system pinged someone approaching the cabin. Cameras showed a police car coming up the dirt road.

The time to run had possibly come much sooner than Alec had expected. 


	47. Community

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 4x4 with ‘Devil’s Gulch Police Department’ emblazoned on its side was only the first of the vehicles down the long dirt road to the Kildale cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the end of Alec and Q's sanctuary in Devil's Gulch? Will they have to run?

The 4x4 with ‘Devil’s Gulch Police Department’ emblazoned on its side was only the first of the vehicles down the long dirt road to the Kildale cabin. Eight others followed in quick succession, Grace’s Outback and Bob’s pickup truck among them.

Alec stood on the front porch, cup of coffee in hand, ready to greet his guests. 

His Sig P220 Legion was in the holster at his back;  P365 Nitron Micro-Compact at his ankle.  Ellery was inside the cabin waiting at the back door with the strap of the duffle bag already looped across his chest.

Lemon Ginger.

It was the only tea Alec had ever seen Q flat out refuse to drink. They’d both been hit by a nasty cold at the beginning of March. The sore throat had been particularly terrible, so Grace had given them each a cup of lemon ginger tea to soothe it. It tasted like furniture polish, but Alec had managed to choke it all down. He’d consumed far worse things in his life, after all. The look on Ellery’s face after his first sip, however, was such that, for a moment, Alec wondered if Q had been poisoned. 

Whilst no ‘cat’ came forth to herald his disgust with the drink, Ellery had stood abruptly, his chair squeaking against the hardwood floor, and took his mug to the front of the shop where he dumped the tea in the service sink behind the counter and slammed it on the worktop. Surprisingly, it didn’t shatter. The glare he shot Grace was only partly assuaged when she chuckled and made him a steaming cup of peppermint, instead.

Lemon Ginger. It was the perfect ‘bug out’ code phrase.

Would Alec have to say it today?

Nine vehicles pulled into the wide-open space at the end of the road in front of the cabin. One by one, the car doors opened and people -- 21 in all -- climbed out: Grace, Bob, Callie, Sam, Gwen Cisneros and her cousin Deputy Laura Gallegos ...

Alec flexed his gun hand.

Only because he knew these people -- most of them -- and had learned to trust his gut over the years had Alec not already sent Q on his way and opened fire. 

Trust was risky. Trust was dangerous. Trust took faith.

Had their faith been misplaced?

“Grace, Bob,” Alec greeted. He took a sip of his coffee, nodding a collective hello to the others. “What brings you all the way out here this morning? Thought we were meeting at your shop today, Grace.”

Bob Gibson stepped forward with Grace toward the porch. Alec eyed him cautiously. Surely he’d not been wrong at his initial gut feeling about him. Alec’s instincts were never wrong. 

Until they were. 

Alec tensed, ready to signal Ellery. 

“Long time ago, I told you one of the reasons I came back to Devil’s Gulch was that she took care of her people,” Grace said. “We’re not always good at saying things to each other, but we are good at doing things  _ for  _ each other.”

“We came to help you and Ellery plant, Alec. Thought maybe you garden rookies could use some help,” Bob spoke up, nodding back at the others standing by their cars. “It’s our way of showing, you know, we appreciate what you did at the grocery store.”

“You stepped up and protected Devil’s Gulch, Alec. You and Ellery. Didn’t have to, but you did,” Grace added. “And it’s time we show our thanks for that.”

“We brought food!” Sam piped up, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Oona laughed at his enthusiasm and linked her arm with her boyfriend’s, kissing him on the cheek.

Alec assessed the situation, agent analysing. Slowly sipping his coffee. Stepping to the open front door behind him, he called inside. 

“Wrong flavour, El. Come visit with our guests.”

Four hours later, Alec wanted nothing but to be done with hauling dirt all over the damn place and a bucket of paracetamol for the headache he’d developed listening to Cat’s complaining. 

When they’d been developing and rehearsing their bug-out plans, Q had insisted on taking three personal items in the bag. The first two were easy enough to include: his laptop and a Leonard Hofstadter Funko Pop keychain Lucy had given him because she thought it looked like Ellery.

The third, of course, was Cat. Q would not leave her behind under  _ any  _ circumstances.

She’d been surprisingly accomodating in their rehearsals. Seemingly the perfect cat for two spies who might need to run at a moment’s notice, she never once complained about being stuffed -- sometimes unceremoniously -- into the duffle and usually curled up atop changes of clothing near the top of the bag. Once she had even fallen asleep.

Not so today.

The protests started the moment Q let her out of the bag. But did she complain to her beloved Ellery? The one who had stuffed her into the bag, to begin with? 

Oh no!

She saved all her whinging for Alec. Had followed him around outside whilst he worked alongside their friends in the garden. Never leaving him alone!

Bitching.

Caterwauling.

Wailing and howling!

Incessantly!

“That is one pissed-off cat,” Bob said. He and Alec were shoveling yet another load of soil from the bed of his truck into wheelbarrows. Cat sat on the edge of the bed, screaming her head off. “Don’t remember her being so cantankerous last time I was out here. Seems rather put out with you.” 

Alec speared another spadeful of dirt. “She’s had a bit of a stressful morning.” 

“Could be in heat,” Sam offered as he passed by with an armful of seedlings Q had been growing in the barn. “Have you had her fixed yet like the vet told you to?”

“She’s barely a year old,” Alec said, cringing at a particularly loud shriek from said feline. 

Bob laughed. “Yeah. I’ll remind you of that when you’re up to your ankles in kittens.”

Alec set the shovel aside and picked up the handles of the full barrow. “Come on, let’s get this over to the planters before El sends Callie after us. You, stay here!” he said with a glare for Cat who immediately hopped off the truck, following at Alec’s heels, completely ignoring his edict.

Screaming at him all the way across the yard.

The garden was being planted under Ellery’s supervision. Alec couldn’t help but laugh at the strange conversation that Bob, Laiha, and Q had at one point over just where and how the potatoes should be planted. Ellery catted at them, but Bob was thoroughly confused. Laiha thought she understood and tried to explain whilst her son, Salim, ran in circles around them with a small garden spade in his hand, just waiting for directions. Ellery shook his head and catted some more, pointing at his blueprints on the tablet. Their confusion did not abate. Grace finally stepped in and became the Ellery Whisperer. Eventually, with her help and El’s oft revised garden maps, the potatoes had a home. 

In the late afternoon, Sam, Oona, and Gwen disappeared into the cabin and an hour later called out to the others that food was waiting for them when the garden was planted. By early evening, everyone was crammed in their kitchen chattering over food.

It was … comfortable. 

Ellery was happy here. Alec was ever more convinced of that. A few weeks ago, this many people in close proximity would have sent him running. But now... even if he was never able to communicate well and still drifted away at times, El was clearly content. 

When the dishes and kitchen were cleaned, and the refrigerator was packed with so many leftovers Alec and Q wouldn’t need to prep anything for a day or two, their friends slowly said their goodbyes with grateful ‘thank yous’ from Alec from both of them. 

Ellery was in the kitchen having a long conversation with Cat about the day’s adventures. Alec said a silent prayer of thanks that El had finally drawn her attention away from him. He and Bob retreated to the porch whilst waiting for Grace to finish brewing coffee.

“Before Grace comes out,” Bob started, glancing through the kitchen window, “I just wanted to say it doesn’t matter to me, to  _ any  _ of us really, where you and Ellery came from before or what you did there, I’m grateful for what you did for Gwen and Devil’s Gulch. You did good, Kildale.”

“Not sure about good, but thank you, Bob. Means a lot.” Thank you was something an agent rarely heard. It was just assumed that it was a part of you. Your mission. Expected. What Alec normally heard was, “we have another mission waiting.” The one exception to that had been Q. As Quartermaster, Ellery had always signed off on each completed mission with, “Thank you, 006. Job well done.” And it had always been sincere.

“Coffee’s ready. You want one Bob?” Grace appeared at the door with two cups.

“No thanks, Grace. Should be going. Early day at the store tomorrow. Alec, bring Ellery by in the morning to look at those new eggplant and cabbage starts if you have the chance.” Bob stomped down the stairs with a wave over his shoulder, leaving Grace and Alec alone on the porch. 

They drank their coffee in silence. The day had been a good one. Alec hated to bring upset into it, but he and Ellery needed to start planning for their future now, and Grace needed to be a part of that.

“Grace, I need a sterile room. A hospital room… a wet room.” Alec glanced through the window at Ellery who was still chittering away with Cat. 

“Alec! You can’t… you just  _ can’t  _ be considering,” Grace snarled at him, suddenly in his face. “I won’t allow it.”

“What’s your…” Alec started, startled by Grace’s reaction. “I don’t…. oh.. you thought...” It suddenly dawned on him what it sounded like. Okay, so maybe asking for a wet room wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever said. “No…  _ hurt  _ Ellery?! Christ no! I could  _ never… _ . Mallory is pushing. Insisting. Wants to see the Quartermaster. We need to video chat with him, but I want to give him a setting as far from here as possible. I need you there, too. We can keep you off-camera, but I need your expertise because Mallory will have MI6 Medical and Psych there on his end.”

It was Grace’s turn to be surprised. “Video chat? Is that wise?”

“Wise? Probably not. It’s a compromise.” 

Alec looked out across the lake. Twilight. It was quickly becoming his favourite time of day. Those few minutes of silence when the bustling activity of the day settled but before the subtle, though no less active, pursuits of nocturnal creatures began. 

God, he wanted to stay here. 

He laughed and rubbed his face. The fucking irony of it all. 

The rogue agent. Always on his own. Content as such. He’d put so few roots down, he didn’t even own a flat in London. But here ...

He looked again at Grace in the chair beside him. “El and I decided. We’re not going back. And M is  _ not _ going to like that. Unless Mallory can see that The Quartermaster he covets is gone, he’ll never leave us be. May even send out people after us.”

“You said before that Ellery and his gifts were at risk of being exploited if the wrong people ever found him. Alec, would MI6 …” The mere thought of what she was about to ask disgusted her. “Would Mallory kill his own Quartermaster to keep him from getting into the wrong hands?”

“Would he  _ want _ to do it? No. I don’t think so. M understands Q’s value. Maybe even likes him a tad. El would have been dead months ago if Mallory hadn’t looked the other way when I ran off with him.”

“But …”

“Mallory’d kill Q in a heartbeat if he thought it was the best way to keep Britain safe.” Alec leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Grace, I trust you, but I need to know I can trust you with  _ him _ . Trust you with Ellery.”

“Alec of course you...” Alec held up a hand to her interrupting her. 

“Let me finish before you answer, Grace. What I’m asking, well, it’s more than doing what you have been for him, me … us. You may not want to be so quick to say yes. It could mean you having to give up a helluva lot,” Alec cautioned her. “I need to convince Mallory that Q is still not ready. That the Quartermaster needs more time. He knows the skills are still there. A tad shaky but still there. But Mallory needs to see that, otherwise, Ellery’s nowhere near ready to come back. I need your help to do that.”

Alec glanced in the window to see El in the kitchen catting at Cat while he fixed her food bowl, probably trying to convince her it was a carefully prepared delicacy. 

“I need to buy us time. Convince Mallory that we are on the other side of the world. No one but Eve knows about this place. No one. I want to keep it that way.” He had been careful in his purchase of this place. Covered his trail with utmost care. He hadn’t even told Bond about it. “Once I’ve convinced Mallory of that, we’re going to break off contact completely. Go dark even to MI6. Moneypenny, too. I don’t want to leave here, but if we need to, we will.” He drew his attention back from watching Ellery to Grace. 

“There is always a possibility that someone would find us. I don’t know how but... We’ve worked out a plan for El to run if things become a cock-up. But I need someone I can trust to help him, watch out for him, and try to get him to safety if something happens to me. You and I both know he can’t be on his own anymore.”

“You’re asking me if I’ll take care of Ellery if you’re killed.”

“Bit of an understatement to say it’s a lot to ask, but--”

Grace held up her hand to stop him. “Alec. Yes. Of course, yes.” She wrapped her cardigan more closely about her and took a sip of her coffee before continuing. Alec could see there was more for her to say, and she was choosing her words carefully. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking the last few days about what my answer would be if you asked me this very question. Seemed somehow prudent after all that happened the other day. I realize that by saying yes to you now, it could mean having to run with Ellery at some point to keep him safe. Give up everything I’ve worked for since I came home, but my answer is still yes. It shouldn’t be, though.”

“Ethics?”

“Yes,” she chuckled ruefully, “but my professional ethics were fucked the minute Ellery started fixing my espresso machine. I’m too close. Been too close for a while, but I’m forcing myself to remain objective where his treatment is concerned because I’m the only choice he has. It’s not like I’m planning to go back into practice.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“ _ But _ , this is bigger than just me. I talked Laura and the Chief into letting me see some of the footage from the other night, and it was --”

“Talk about fucked ethics.” Alec's grin was deliberately cheeky.

“Shut it, you!” She smacked him on the arm. “The point I’m trying to make is that what I saw on that footage was … beyond imagining, Alec, and I know it’s not a fraction of what you’re capable of, even if you do think you’re off your game. Look, there was never much call for a Navy shrink to keep up with her firearm certifications, but I did, and I have. Even now. It’s something of a way of life up here. I can hold my own, but there is no way I can do what you can for Ellery, and I’m not just talking about physical protection. I’m not going to be enough. We’re going to need help.” 

Alec smiled. He stood and offered her his hand so gallantly that Grace eyed him with suspicion. “I’ve already thought of that. Come inside and we’ll talk a bit about Bob.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	48. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ...
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::posts the chapter and backs away, slowly::

Breathe in …

Breathe out ...

He stands in the doorway of their... of  _ the  _ bedroom... tumbler in hand watching her pull empty suitcases out of the closet. Her clothing and things already strewn across the bed. 

Breathe in ... 

Breathe out ... 

“Yes, Darling. I understand, Darling.”

A one-sided conversation, again … “bored”, “excitement”, “you didn’t”, “why didn’t you”, “that life”, “I can’t” and “I refuse”, key highlights he manages to pick out of her ranting. 

“Yes, Darling. I understand, Darling.”

Breathe in ... 

Breathe out ... 

She shoves things haphazardly into suitcases as the tirade goes on... 

He finds himself not really giving a flying fuck. 

Breathe in ... Breathe out ... 

A waiting cab honks impatiently outside. 

“Let me carry those suitcases for you, Darling.” He is _more_ than happy to do that for her. 

“Yes, Darling. Don’t bother keeping in touch, Darling”. 

She calls him a few choice ... no,  _ numerous  _ choice words as she slams the door of the cab. 

Breathe in ... Breathe out ... 

He watches her pull away. Smiles, waves even, as she glares at him out the back glass of the cab as it disappears around the bend. 

“Goodbye, Darling ... and good riddance”. 

Breathe in ... 

Breathe out ...

And finally ... he  _ can _ . 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Without it being a struggle, a conscious effort. His world is suddenly lighter, a weight off his shoulders. He walks slowly up the front steps and takes a seat on the top one, relaxed, watching the approaching sunset. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

And... he actually can breathe.   
  
  
  


Now to take his life  _ back _ !

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	49. On the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Snacks. Drinks. But you stay close to me. Understand.” Alec tapped Q on the forehead to make sure he was listening to him. 
> 
> “Cat!” Q huffed at him, protesting. 
> 
> “Of course, I don’t trust you not to wander away.” Alec laughed at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, those Bond chapters ... 
> 
> Now back to the main storyline. :)
> 
> Do let us know what you think. Your comments bring us such happiness. Truly!

“I appreciate you taking a few days late notice like this, Bob,” Alec commented from the back seat. Bob was driving the Explorer with Grace navigating, leaving Alec free to deal with Ellery. It was decided that might be their better option since Q could still be a tad unpredictable at times. “And with you keeping our predicament need to know.”

“Knew there was more to your story than you were telling, but decided it was yours to tell if you wanted.” Though he hadn’t given him the full story yet, that would come once they reached their destination, Alec had been surprised at how easily Bob accepted things when Alec stopped by his cabin to chat the day after The Gardening. Was even more surprised when they picked him up for their trip, for along with his duffel, Bob carried for a suitcase-style gun case containing two high-powered rifles. “Never know when you might need them,” was the simple explanation he gave which Alec accepted with an appreciative smile. 

Like minds. 

“We’ll need to check and double-check the setting and how we are going to handle this in minute detail. Because after this chat, which Mallory _will_ record, he’ll have people go over it repeatedly for the smallest clue they can glean to try to locate us.”

Whilst Grace hadn’t known of anywhere to hold the video chat, once Alec had read him into their situation and needs, Bob suggested the cabin his ‘crazy nutjob, conspiracy-theorist’ cousin had left him when he’d died. They were road-tripping it west to Utah where the cabin stood along an isolated stretch of the La Sal River about 40 miles southeast of Moab.

Not long into their drive, Ellery had become restless, agitated, but Alec had managed to calm him enough that he curled up and dosed off. He’d been sleeping ever since, head in Alec’s lap with Cat clutched tightly to his chest in a stranglehold. Anyone else Cat would have clawed to bits by now, but not Ellery... a boy and his cat.

“Think Ellery might like to get out and stretch his legs? We’re going to need gas in a bit,” Bob said. The large green sign along the side of the highway indicated they were 10 miles outside of Palisade, Colorado. “Probably better we stop there than go all the way into Grand Junction. Smaller town.” 

“Good idea.” Alec ran his hand through Ellery’s hair. “Need you to wake up now, El,” he said, smiling at the sleepy frown that turned into a pout marring Q’s face. He’d once heard that the Quartermaster liked to brag about doing more damage on his laptop sitting in his pajamas before his first cup of Earl Grey than a Double-O could do in a year in the field. Yeah. Not if that damage had to come right after Ellery first woke up. There was definite lag time between waking and wakefulness, and a just woken Q struggled to put his socks on properly let alone orchestrate any sort of complex mission objective if it required more than pushing a single button. And even that might be an optimistic assessment. 

Alec found it bloody adorable.

“Come on you. Take a look at this beautiful canyon we’re driving through.” Ellery groaned in protest but opened his eyes. Alec helped Q sit up, buckled him back in, and handed El his glasses. Cat howled her displeasure at being woken from her nap and hopped from Ellery’s arms into the far back of the Explorer where they’d set up some water and kibble and a few of her cat toys. They’d tried to coax her into her kennel for the trip, but she’d turned up her nose, taking up residence in Q’s duffle instead. 

Alec handed Ellery a bottle of water which he downed in just a few draughts. He blinked a few times, clearing his vision and took in his surroundings. He crooked his head to look up beyond the window to the high canyon walls that the highway followed on one side with the Colorado river -- increasingly full from winter snow runoff -- along the other.

“Cat!” He smiled excitedly at Alec before looking back out the window again.

Alec chuckled. “Nothing like this back in Britain, that’s for sure.”

The canyon eventually opened out onto the tall mesas of the Western Slope and the hundreds and hundreds of acres of peach tree orchards that Palisade was famous for. As far as the eye could see, the landscape was awash with green leaves and pink peach blossoms.

“CAT!!”

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Grace agreed.

“I’ve never seen the like.” Even Alec had a hard time keeping the awe out of his voice.

“Peaches won’t be ready until late July or August, but they’re the best to be found. We’ll make sure you get some fresh, but we might be able to find some canned local peaches at the station’s convenience store,” Bob said as he pulled off the highway and into town.

“Everyone out for a stretch, bathroom break, and munchies,” Bob the tour guide announced as he pulled into a gas station. 

“I am so ready to get out of this vehicle,” Grace sighed. “It’s not that you all aren’t great traveling companions, but...” scrambling out of the car as soon as it stopped. 

“At least I didn’t ask ‘are we there yet?’” Alec called after her. Grace didn’t turn around but flipped him a single followed by double-fingered salute lest the language barrier make her opinion on his words unclear. Alec’s booming laugh followed her into the store, but it wasn’t until Alec was inside himself that it dawned on him Ellery was still in his sock feet without shoes. Well, at least he’d talked him out bringing Cat in with them. Small victories.

“Snacks. Drinks. But you stay close to me. Understand.” Alec tapped Q on the forehead to make sure he was listening to him. 

“Cat!” Q huffed at him, protesting. 

“Of course, I don’t trust you not to wander away.” Alec laughed at him. Q turned around with a huff, pretending to be studying the different varieties of crisps on the shelf, ignoring Alec completely. 

Fifteen minutes later they were back on the road, bladders empty, fuel tank full. Grace was behind the wheel, Bob riding shotgun, with Alec and Q in the back as before. Alec was watching Q bite into the second of three chili cheese dogs he’d catted Bob into buying him after Alec had returned to the 4x4 with the bag containing the rest of the spoils of the cart ghost’s convenience store raid: red and black licorice, Oreos, trail mix, salt and vinegar crisps, Cheetos, two Cadbury chocolate bars, grape and orange Fanta, two bottles of water, a tin of Palisade peaches in their juice, and a plush hedgehog that Cat was alternately gnawing and clawing at atop Q’s duffle in the far back. 

“You eat like you’re thirteen, not thirty-five,” Alec said, bewildered.

“Cat.” Ellery smiled around a mouthful of chili cheese dog.

Whilst Grace drove, Bob and Alec’s conversation drifted to what should be the next thing planted in Ellery’s garden, depending on the cooperation of the weather. Ellery -- the bottomless pit -- was content for a tad with his stash of snacks and seemed to settle into the back seat watching the scenery go by. At least until they came upon the road sign that declared “Welcome to Utah!” Then he grew agitated, catting, and pounding on the top of Alec’s leg. 

“Bob’s cabin’s a couple more hours away. We’re going there for a day or two. We talked about this.” Ellery stared at him. Never blinking. Just stared. Alec hated being under that intense scrutiny, especially from Q. He’d learned even though Ellery was often in his own little world, El really did not miss a thing that was happening around him, but he’d apparently forgotten about this.

Ellery stared and Alec could see the underlying questioning and panic starting to build up in him. The novelty of the experience to this point had vanished. They were leaving Colorado. A change in routine. Something Q did not handle well anymore. 

“Remember, Mallory wants a video conference. He wants to see you for himself.” Alec sighed reaching out to lay a calloused hand against the side of El’s face, attempting to calm and keep him somewhat grounded. Alec wasn’t sure why Ellery hadn’t remembered, likely distracted by the garden when they’d talked, but he couldn’t worry about that now. It had been a hard enough conversation to have the first time at the cabin where Ellery felt safe, but here on the road … 

“I need to give him a setting that’s going to throw him off our trail. Something that is completely foreign to where we really are. This seemed the best choice.” Alec could see the change in Ellery’s expression. He was afraid and so not happy.

“I know... I know...” running the pad of his thumb across Ellery’s cheek. “I don’t know for sure what M is going to ask or want. Or who will be watching with him, El, but, we can do this. I’ll be with you. You won’t be alone. Bob and Grace will be there on the sidelines also.”

Q fumbled with the buckle of his seatbelt but finally managed to undo it and folded himself on top of Alec, head in his lap as he had done when napping earlier, but this time he was trembling.

“Christ!” Alec muttered.

“Do I need to stop?” Grace asked, eyes glancing at the scene in the back via the rearview mirror before scanning the highway ahead for an exit or safety zone where she could pull over. 

“No. I don’t think-- give me a ‘mo.” Alec unhooked his seatbelt and hefted Ellery into his arms, cradling him against his chest. Q clung to him like a limpet, seeking almost to crawl inside his skin. It reminded Alec far too much of that horrible day in Q-Branch when Q had held onto him, sobbing, the muzzle of an unused handgun glaring at Alec where it lay on the floor a metre distant. He tightened his grip and rested his head against the side of El’s with his hand pressed against the base of Q’s skull. He said nothing, letting their closeness soothe without the words. Finally, the trembling eased and Ellery fell asleep. 

Alec looked up over El’s curls. Grace had pulled off at a rest stop along the side of the highway. The only car in the small lot, she and Bob had got out and stood together near a flowering bush wearing concerned looks on their faces, giving the two men space but staying close enough should they be needed. Cat had curled up on the centre console, purring and watchful. 

“Al-Alec …”

Q wasn’t asleep. When Alec pulled back to look at him, he was met with eyes that were clear and very, very afraid. He didn’t tense when he felt Ellery’s fingers brush against the Sig in its holster on his waistband before clinging to the back of his jumper.

“Cat.” It was sad. Resigned even.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, El.”

Q touched the Sig again. It lingered. “Cat …”

Then what Ellery was really trying to tell Alec finally sunk in. “Christ. You remember, don’t you?” 

Q’s hand fell away, and he buried his face into the crook of Alec’s neck, nodding. His collapse. The gun. Half a heartbeat away from blowing his brains out. Ellery remembered it all.

“You’re safe. You’re not going back. I’m not going back. They will never have you again. Never, El!” Alec’s words came fast. Were laced with anger and frustration he felt toward Mallory and Six as well as the adoration and admiration he felt for the man in his arms. “You’re strong, love. So strong. But I’m here for you and _with_ you. Always. We do this together.”

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



	50. La Sal, Utah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec peered over El’s shoulder, watching a link to the outside world appear. Q’s fingers began to move with skill across the keys, routing them from continent to continent and back again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter of the story, so far. We hope that you enjoy it.
> 
> If you've not had an opportunity to see what's going on over on Tumblr with the 2020 007 Fest, please do so. There are some amazing things being created and shared for The Fest, not the least of which is some brilliant artwork for this story by two of your fellow readers: FrickandFrack and AsheTarasovich. Each has been inspired by Without Being Told and have created fanworks of a fanwork. Boffin and I are beyond humbled. We urge you all to see them for yourselves.
> 
> Now, on with the current chapter ...

Bob had been dead-on accurate when he described the place his ‘crazy nutjob, conspiracy-theorist’ cousin had left him. A rustic cabin built on top of a massive lorry shipping container buried in the ground, it screamed ‘prepper’s retreat heaven’ for anyone wanting to wait out the apocalypse.

Or to hold a private chat with the SIS. The unrecognisable, military-style bunker was the perfect hidey-hole for Alec to chaffer with Mallory over Ellery’s fate. 

Whilst El napped, exhausted from the emotional stress of the journey, Bob, Alec, and Grace removed every trace of anything that might possibly indicate they were stateside. A long and tedious process, but with all of them giving the bunker a thrice over, Alec was pretty sure they’d got everything. 

They needed to eat, all of them, and Alec would soon have to wake Ellery from his nap to set up a secure connection for them to speak with MI6. After his reaction in the Explorer, Alec hated to ask him to do it, but it was a necessity.

Armed with sandwiches and coffee, Alec, Grace, and Bob headed outside for a break and a chance to talk without Ellery. 

“You’ve come this far, you deserve to know the rest so you can make a decision to stay up top and out of the fray if you want. Lack of knowledge will keep you safer,” Alec remarked to Bob when he’d finished his food. He had to give his friend that option.

“After all this, I doubt seriously there’s anything you can tell me that’ll keep me out, but tell your tale.” They sat on a trio of rocks near the river. The late afternoon was sunny, but there was still a chill in the air. Spring had come but winter was loath to release its grip entirely. 

Bob was a rapt audience whilst Alec told him everything he knew about Q’s involvement with Silva, Skyfall, Blofeld, Spectre, and Nine Eyes. His role as Quartermaster. The endless hours seeing to the needs of the agents under his care as well as those on his team. The increasing demands. The insufficient support. 

Q’s break. Alec knocking the gun from his hand as he was about to pull the trigger. Ellery’s treatment in Medical. Their escape. Meeting Grace.

“You know the rest,” Alec said, finally wrapping up their story. It had taken longer than planned, but Bob said nothing the entire time, allowing Alec to say what he needed without interruption. “So … I’m sure you have questions.”

“Just one.”

“Ask whatever you want.”

“Are you two really married?”

Grace’s bark of laughter echoed through the trees. 

Alec’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? Everything I just told you -- all of which I can be executed for sharing, by the way -- and you want to know… No. Paperwork says we are, but … no. Not married. Does it matter?” 

“That you’re not married? Hell yes, it matters! But not in the way you think,” he said in a rush when he saw Alec start to get angry. “You’ve done all this for Ellery. Risked your life to keep him safe. Cared for him with a devotion unlike any I’ve seen. Paperwork? For some people, that’s all marriage is. A piece of paper. But that’s what would motivate them. Obligation. And so many come to resent it. You don’t have the paper, and you don’t need it either.” Bob shook his head, amazed. “It’s not even loyalty, man. It’s a kind of love I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, and you do it all for him because you can’t imagine doing anything differently.”

“He did it for me first,” Alec said to his knees, somehow managing to keep his voice steady though Bob had managed to hit on everything Alec had been feeling these last few months. 

“Far from a quid pro quo, and you know it,” Bob said seriously, “but yeah … we’re getting too touchy-feely, I suppose. Men like us. But, Alec, I don’t get involved in causes that aren’t worthy, and I’d not come on this adventure otherwise. All your story did was solidify my commitment. Whatever I can do, Alec. Whatever you and Ellery need from me,” he nodded at sleepy Q and Cat who were walking across the clearing toward them, “it’s yours.” 

When Ellery joined them, taking up a spot on the rock next to Alec, the agent carefully explained to Q what he needed as far as a communications window into MI6. Some things he explained twice because he wasn’t completely sure El was listening, but the sad eyes that met his made it perfectly clear that Ellery had understood everything Alec had said, and before long he was rooting around in the boot of the vehicle dragging out bits and pieces of tech. Alec had brought every item he thought Ellery would need. 

Two hours later, satellite connection established down in the bunker, Alec peered over El’s shoulder, watching a link to the outside world appear. Q’s fingers began to move with skill across the keys, routing them from continent to continent and back again. 

Soon a secondary window, then a third... and another appeared. Inside one pulled off to the side, Alec could see they were looking inside Q Branch through one of its own secure cameras. 

Q walked through the cyber hallways of MI6 as if he was taking a stroll through Victoria Park, but he was clearly searching for something in the servers. 

After a few minutes Alec watched as one of Q’s minions frantically motioned for R. Suddenly every monitor at every workstation in the branch -- likely the whole of MI6 -- went black. The MI6 logo appeared once more but in reverse before going black again and righting itself. 

Techs in Q Branch seemed to be delving urgently into their systems, and then R walked straight up in front of the security camera closest to Q’s main workstation, looked directly into the camera, and spoke. Alec lip-read her words out loud. “Q! I know it’s you! Mallory is going to shite himself. What the fuck are you doing?!”

“What the bloody hell did you do, El?” 

“Cat...” Ellery just shrugged and shoved his empty coffee cup towards Alec. 

Twenty minutes later everyone was where they were supposed to be in the bunker. Q sat at his laptop with Alec standing at his side. A high-definition webcam sat on a small tripod that peeked over the screen. Alec wanted to be sure Mallory and the rest could see Ellery clearly. At the far end of the bunker, carefully out of sight of the camera, Grace sat in front of a second laptop where she would monitor the conversation and feed Alec information via earwig to counter any arguments Medical and Psych -- who Alec was sure would be in attendance -- might make. Bob stood against the container wall five feet behind the camera. Closer, to serve as another witness to the discussion but also as added insurance.

“They can’t know you’re here, Bob, so don’t even breathe too loudly, but if I shove Ellery out of camera range, it means it’s all gone to shite. Get him and Grace out. Run. Do not go back to Devil’s Gulch. Do not look back.” He held up a flash drive. “This will make running easier.” 

Bob took the drive, rolled it in his fingers twice, then stowed it in the zippered inside pocket of the light coat he wore. “And if it doesn’t all go to shit?”

“Then I’ll want that back. No way I’m letting you live off all my money.”

Bob laughed and clapped Alec on the shoulder. “Like it’d be enough anyway. I have expensive tastes.” 

Alec exhaled slowly and ran his hand through the curls at the nape of Ellery’s neck. He felt the tension in Q’s shoulders ease slightly. El bowed his head a moment, then looked over his shoulder at Alec, eyes sad but clear.

“Time for us to say goodbye to them, love,” Alec said gently. Though it was only the second time he’d used the term, it came just as easily now as it had in the car. It felt right. And it brought a small smile to Ellery’s otherwise grave expression. Worth it.

Though they weren’t scheduled to start the meeting for another fifteen minutes, there was no sense dragging out the inevitable. “Patch us in, El.” He signalled to Bob and Grace that they were about to begin.

Q nodded and pressed his cheek against Alec’s hand where it rested on his shoulder. He turned in his chair and entered a series of commands into his laptop. The light on top of the webcam activated, and a small window popped up in the upper corner of the computer’s screen showing the viewpoint of the camera. The main window was dominated by the image of the executive conference room Mallory had scheduled for the call. It had taken all of ten seconds for Q to hack into the MI6 scheduling calendar.

_ Good thing he chose one of the larger ones _ , Alec thought bitterly when he saw the number of people in the room. As expected the SIS Chief had been joined by Martel and Osler from Medical and Psych. Tanner was there. Moneypenny, too. R wasn’t wholly unexpected, but he hadn’t anticipated the presence of 004. Neither, apparently, had Ellery who fingered her image on the monitor. It had been Scarlett’s mission that had gone pear-shaped just before Q tried to kill himself. A mission neither of them had ever learned the outcome of.

Alec gripped El’s shoulder firmly -- a silent ‘I’m here’ -- and after a moment, Q settled back into his chair. “Turn it on.”

Another series of commands and Ellery activated the large screen in the MI6 conference room, broadcasting their feed five thousand miles away to London.

“Good day, everyone. Nice to see you’re all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at two in the morning,” Alec said, taking a sip from the mug of coffee he picked up from the tabletop. Working to keep things as casual as possible… for the time being.

Everyone in the room with the exception of the Double-O jumped at their early arrival on screen.

“Scarlett,” Alec said to 004, “you’re looking well. It’s been too long.”

“Quartermaster! We can start off this meeting by you releasing our network back to us!” Mallory demanded. 

“What? Not even a hello? Shame on you, Mallory,” Alec refused to call him by his designation. “Not a very pleasant way to start off our chat.” Alec remained calm and slowly sipped his coffee again. “When we’ve concluded here your systems will be released back to R. I’m sure Q Branch is actively trying to regain control as we speak. Tell them it’s a waste of energy. They won’t be able to lock him out.”

Mallory turned his back to the video feed, obviously taking a moment to regain his composure. 

“006, we would like to assess the Quartermaster’s progress and discuss when you and he will be returning to active status at MI6,” he said, turning back around. “Dr. Osler believes he has a better option for the Quartermaster’s recovery than what he’s currently receiving. One that would allow him to be back at his position with minimal additional downtime.” Alex could see Ellery visibly tense but he remained seated, barely, hands gripping the edge of the table. 

“Osler is an idiot.” 

“Caaattt.” Ellery muttered quietly, just barely audible.

Grace’s voice sounded in Alec’s ear. “Alec, how in the world do they think, as nonverbal as Ellery is, that he is anywhere near capable of working. Let alone… I’ve stated this repeatedly to them in my reports.”

“I didn’t quite catch what you said, Quartermaster. If you would just come in, I’m sure-” Mallory began. 

“What do you not understand about the reports you have been getting on his condition? He is nowhere near...” Alec stopped, knowing he was getting angry and couldn’t afford to unleash that right now. 

“Well, the Quartermaster seems very capable of locking down MI6 today.” 

“Something you should note and remember later, Mallory.  _ Ellery  _ is very capable of causing you all sorts of issues, but he is not, I repeat,  _ not  _ capable of being your Quartermaster. Not anymore. Mallory, he’s fucking nonverbal. The entire time we’ve been gone, he says one word.  _ One _ ! One word to communicate, no more.” Alec gently laid a hand on Ellery’s shoulder, tight and tense, causing him to flinch. 

“Ellery,” Alec leaned down and gently spoke, “Moneypenny is here. Say hello to her. She’s missed you, and I know you’ve missed her. “

Q took control of the MI6 camera to zoom in so Eve’s face filled his screen. “Cat.” It was equal parts eager and shy for whilst it had been months since he’d seen his friend, things were very much not like what they once had been. 

Eve smiled brightly, tears in her eyes. “Oh, yes I’ve missed you, you absolute tosser!”

“Cat!” It was louder. More secure. But only just. 

“Cat? What is this  _ ‘cat’  _ nonsense? I promise you, M, just a few days back in our care and the Quartermaster will be speaking normally again.” 

Ellery jumped then tensed.

Osler.

Q’s hands were clenched in fists in his lap. Alec leaned over and adjusted the feed so they could see the entire room again. As he did so, he glanced at Ellery. His eyes were growing distant. Too soon. It was too soon. “Stick with me just a tad longer, El. Then you can hide for a while. Just a few minutes more,” he whispered in Ellery’s ear even as Grace fed bits of her reports and analysis into his.

Even the nod was vague, but it was something. Ellery would hang in there as long as he could. He knew what was at stake.

“It’s hardly nonsense, Osler, you arrogant arse. Selective mutism is a very real condition and the words cannot be forced back into usage. There are other factors complicating Ellery’s condition, the research and literature on which I know his current psychiatrist has forwarded you. Have you bothered to read any of it.”

“Claptrap and twaddle, all of it,” Osler said with a wave of his hand.

Grace’s snort of disgust was loud in Alec’s ear but could not be heard in the room. Alec relayed Grace’s comments. “Twaddle? One holds the Regius Chair of Medicine at Oxford, the other is a senior researcher at Cambridge who was made DBE two years ago for her work on post-traumatic stress disor--”

“It’s still a matter of perspective,” Osler opined dismissively.

“She’s your former mentor, for fuck’s sake!” Alec practically shouted to cover the huff of Grace’s disgust at the other end of the bunker. He wiped at his face to disguise the look he gave Bob that said ‘Go get her under control!’ Bob did so quickly and in perfect silence. 

“Trevelyan,” Scarlett Papava interrupted the discussion that was quickly growing out of control, hoping to regain some semblance of a normal conversation. “I was told by Tanner that the Quartermaster was catatonic when you two initially left MI6. Obviously that has improved but what exactly is Q’s state, day to day? And explain to me what he means by ‘cat.’”

Alec proceeded to tell them how Ellery still drifted off into his own world. How those moments were unpredictable and varied in length. How in those times, El’s lucidity ranged from being ‘slightly off’ to completely lost elsewhere and unresponsive. Whilst stress had been deemed a definite trigger, it didn’t seem to be the only one. He added that during those times, he tried never to let Q out of his sight. Now it was for Q’s safety as he couldn’t look out for himself but initially because he feared Ellery would attempt suicide again. El trembled, flinched in his seat, but Alec had to ignore it for now.

“And as far as what ‘cat’ means... for now, it means everything.”

“But how do you know  _ what _ he is saying?” Scarlett asked, confused. 

“By doing what we do best, Scarlett. Reading him. Assessing the situation and context.” Alec liked Scarlett. He was pleased she was seeming sensible about this situation. 

“I would like to speak with the Quartermaster, 006.” Mallory stepped forward. “How do we know this is not an act? A ploy?” Ellery shook visibly. His head dropped, breaking eye contact with the screen. Hand frantically reaching back to grab Alec somewhere...  _ anywhere  _ to hang on. 

Alec bent down, fingers under Ellery’s chin so he could see his face. Ellery was drifting. Eye contact was gone. Focus was swiftly disappearing. God Alec hated doing this to him. Hated himself for pushing Ellery to the edge, but Mallory needed to see. Needed to know that what he wanted and what he was asking for was impossible. 

“Alec... do we need to pull him?” Grace questioned. Alec turned his focus back to the monitor hoping Grace would get the message that they couldn’t. Not yet. 

But it was Scarlett who put an end to the intense scrutiny.

“Your accusation is disgusting and beneath the man I thought you were, M,” Papava snapped. 

“You overstep your position, 004,” Mallory warned.

“No! It is you who have lost sight of yours if you honestly think for one moment that the  _ Quartermaster _ is playacting a mental health issue to avoid coming back to work.” She pointed at the screen on the wall that broadcasted Ellery and Alec’s image. “I dare say that man in his own way has done more for the people in this organisation and the country as a whole in his 15 years with MI6 than the rest of us combined. And how do you repay him? With suspicion and baseless accusations that have been whispered in your ear by Rasputin over there.” She nodded in Osler’s direction. “Figure it out, Mallory! There’s a reason why every last one of the Double-Os and senior agents patently refuse to be treated by that incompetent quack, yet you placed your Quartermaster, the single most important resource at your disposal, under his care? Little wonder Trevelyan scarpered with him.”

“I’ll not sit here and be dictated to by--”

“You  _ will  _ listen, M. Or I promise an agent revolution. I’ll lead it myself.” As the senior-most agent in Alec’s absence, she would have been chosen as their representative for something like this, but the fact of the matter was Scarlett was highly respected inside and outside of the agent corps, and those who didn’t esteem her feared her, which was motivation in its own right. Even Alec had to admit that Papava could be bloody terrifying when she wanted to be. She turned her attention to the webcam above the screen. “Quartermaster … no,  _ Ellery _ . Can you see me?”

Alec tapped Q’s chin again, and he stirred a tad. It was something. “El? Raise up and look at Scarlett. She’ll get stroppy if you don’t, and that’s as weaponised a pout as they come.”

“Bugger off, Trevelyan.”

But Ellery raised his head, and though his eyes constantly shifted focus, he seemed to be trying to listen.

“Q. The other agents and I were led to believe your condition was something other than what it is. We made things needlessly difficult for R and the rest of the handlers as a result. That ends now. As far as the agent corps is concerned, you’ve earned your retirement. Your handlers are a credit to your training, Q, and we’ll adapt. Try not to make things too hard on R. I …” and here Papava’s words faltered. “I can’t help but feel  _ we _ did this to you, Q. By not listening to you and your handlers enough in the field. Causing you unnecessary stress. Ignoring the warning signs. I’m sorry.”

“Something for which we’re all to blame, I think, Agent.” This from Tanner who until now had sat silently at M’s side. 

Et tu, Tanner? The look on Mallory’s face screamed.

“You may not like it, but it’s true, sir,” Tanner said, undaunted by the look of betrayal and rage on M’s face. He passed his boss a file folder. A very  _ thick _ file folder. 

“What is this?” Mallory demanded, quickly flipping through the pages, scanning but not really seeing through his anger.

“After the Quartermaster started pulling on his  _ extensive  _ accrued leave, I thought it prudent to get a sense of his quantitative and qualitative contributions to the Service. In there you will find reports detailing his average hours worked per week: ranked first at 126.23 hours per week in the 12 months immediately preceding the incident in Q-Branch. Anecdotal evidence from Q-Branch staffers indicates that during the same period, he spent an average of four to five nights per week sleeping on the sofa in his office rather than returning home for a proper rest.”

Even Osler had the good grace to look stunned by that.

“Who was second?” Mallory asked. He flipped back through the file, looking for the right page.

“I was. I averaged 102.45 hours per week during that same 12 month period. You ranked 8th, sir. In case you were wondering. Average of 86.37 hours per week.” The condemnation in Tanner’s tone was difficult to ignore. “You’ll also find reports detailing eleven requests over the last seven years for additional personnel to aid his handlers with the increase in missions abroad. All of which were denied. Even those during the time period when the Quartermaster was seeing to the final dismantling of Nine Eyes in the weeks after the incident at Westminster Bridge. The money was available in the budget but was funnelled to further increase agent activities abroad with no corresponding increase to provide those agents with the support needed from resources based here at home -- extra handlers.” 

Tanner’s tone grew ever more cool the longer he spoke. “Rather than further task his already overworked staff, The Quartermaster regularly took on extra assignments himself. Hence the 126.23 hours per week. There are other budgetary issues addressed in those pages, too, most pertaining to R&D. Again, requested support for agents abroad that was denied. Now, not all these requests were denied by you. Most, but not all. The previous M had a hand in it, too, but that’s neither here nor there at the moment. In addition to the hard data, I have included additional anecdotal/qualitative reports taken from personnel in Q-Branch, Medical, and HR, as well as people Q interacted regularly with at Five, GCHQ, the FCO, Downing Street, and his counterparts from each of the Nine Eyes countries.”

Tanner turned his attention to the screen. “It shouldn’t just feel like we did this to you, Ellery. We  _ did _ do this to you, and for any one of us to suggest that you are in any way feigning your condition is an insult to you and everything the Service is supposed to stand for. ‘To Protect Lives at Home.’ You did that for us. We didn’t do that for you.”

It took all Alec had to hide his grin and continue to glower. Tanner was nothing if not precise with his reports. Finally, all that precision might be worth something.

“We cannot just let the Quartermaster be left unprotected and unsupervised on his own.” Mallory’s anger was beginning to seep through his outer veneer. “There is too much at stake. His knowledge of MI6 inner workings, let alone his obvious skills... we cannot risk him falling into someone else’s hands. He will be brought in!”

Before anyone could respond, Ellery leapt from his chair and dodged behind Alec, latching onto the back of his jumper. Alec would have let him cling there through the remainder of this conversation, but then he felt fingers creep towards the weapon holstered at the small of his back.

Alec deftly pulled a trembling Ellery in front of him, grabbing both his hands in his tightly. “El! Ellery! Look at me!” His reaction was slow, painfully so, but finally, Ellery looked up at him with watery eyes. “I will protect you. Nothing and no one gets to you.” Ellery struggled in his grip. 

“Ellery!” Alec forced him to look at him, hand grasping his chin. “I see you, El. I hear you. I always will. Remember that.” There was a commotion of voices on both the vid link and in his ear. 

“You’ve done your part here, El. I’ll deal with the rest. Now go. Go!” Alec shoved him deeper towards the shadowed back of the room where he disappeared from the view of those gathered in MI6. He paused, watching things play out in the darkness for a moment before turning back to the video feed. 

“Now it’s time for  _ you  _ to listen to me, Mallory,” a loathing laced  _ 006 _ ’s words. “And I'll share with you how things are going to be and what is going to happen.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday was a rather horrible day. One of those where nothing I touched worked as it should and precious little else was a comfort. Posting Boffin's and my offering for you all, however, is a balm to the angst of my day. Do let us know what you thought about the chapter. Yes, this is me asking for a bit more balm since this achy soul of mine needs it. Much love to you all!


	51. Unknown Impact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R whimpered as if in pain at the news. Eve stifled her gasp by pressing her hand to her mouth. Papava’s curse sounded clearly through the feed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are all enjoying 007Fest that's taking place over on Tumblr. If you haven't sampled the goods, you truly are missing out. It's a wonderful month to be a Bond fan!!
> 
> Thank you all for your comments on the last chapter. Boffin and I appreciate every last one of them as well as every last one of our readers. Whether you have commented or not, we know you're out there. :) Thank you for reading. I also want to offer a personal thank you for the words of support many of you included for me (Dassandre) after the last update. Hugs to you all!
> 
> Now, off to our narrative!!

“How is he?” Alec wasn’t fully through the cabin door before asking after Ellery, striding to the kitchen table where he ripped out every cord from Q’s portable satellite, cutting their connection to MI6 permanently. 

Bob pressed a glass of vodka into his hand before answering. Alec downed it. “Not well. Grace had to sedate him a bit. She’s with him.” He nodded at the door to the one bedroom in the place. “When you sent Ellery to us, we didn’t think you wanted us to run. Should we have?”

Alec shook his head. “I think we’re safe.” 

The ‘for now’ hung in the air between them, unsaid but understood.

It hadn’t been easy, and Mallory hadn’t been the least bit happy, but with support from Papava, Tanner, Moneypenny, R, and even Martel, there hadn’t been much he and Osler could do but stand down. It was that or be prepared to face mass resignations that would cripple MI6’s ability to carry out its mission. 

Alec had never seen such a show of solidarity.

Unfortunately, Ellery’s exit from the bunker had drawn the attention of those in London. He hadn’t gone quietly. The sounds of his distress, and those of Grace and Bob trying to take him upstairs, had been clear on the mic.

“Who is there with you?” Mallory had demanded.

“You insist that Ellery be brought in for his own safety. To keep him out of the hands of those who would use him against The Commonwealth. There is nothing you can do that is better than the protection I can provide. And I am not without resources. People who will assist me in that task.”

“Aid and abet is more like it,” Mallory snapped. 

Alec took Ellery’s seat at the small table, but before he did so, he had made a show of pulling his Sig from its holster at his back.

“This is what Q was reaching for earlier when you were so free in making decisions about his life: my weapon. Telling, don’t you think that the only time in the last six months he considers blowing his brains out is when faced with the possibility of returning to MI6?”

R had whimpered as if in pain at the news. Eve stifled her gasp by pressing her hand to her mouth. Papava’s curse sounded clearly through the feed. Tanner’s jaw tightened. Martel shook her head. Osler began spouting off as to how this was ‘precisely why the Quartermaster should be brought in. By force, if necessary.’

“Good luck with that,” Alec had growled. “I told you before that in order to protect him, I would take Ellery so deep you’ll never find him. I have done so. There will be no more reports from his doctor because there is no more doctor. Your previous threats ensured that. She was unwilling to risk her life by continuing to treat him, so we’ve moved on, and will continue to move on. Gareth Mallory, The Quartermaster and I officially tender our resignations from the SIS.” 

Alec could hear Mallory’s protests as he slammed the screen down on the laptop, cutting the video feed before he stormed up and out of the buried shelter. 

And when Alec had told Bob that he thought they were safe, he couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before they were both on the unofficial ‘retire upon sight’ list. 

“They really did a number on Ellery, didn’t they. Chewed him up and spit him out.” Bob shook his head. “Would he have?” Bob gestured to where he knew Alec had a weapon holstered. 

“In a heartbeat, faced with going back.” And that thought struck utter fear in Alec. 

“We need to move.” Alec scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. ”Pack everything and head out as soon as we can. I don’t want him to wake up here. Would rather he wake at the cabin in a familiar setting or at least as close to it as we can get. Fucking Mallory! Just had to push!” Alec growled as Grace appeared at the bedroom door to see what the commotion was. 

“What the fuck was that, Alec?! That fiasco probably just undid every stride forward Ellery’s made!”

“It had to be done, Grace.” Giving her a ‘don’t fuck with me now’ look. “Had to take the risk. Mallory needed to see Ellery! Not the fantasy of a Quartermaster he thought was still here.” He glanced at the bedroom. “How is he?” Alec tried to reel in his seething anger. Ellery needed to be his focus now, not the sodding twatwaffles at MI6. 

“Not well. Bob had to hold Ellery still while I sedated him. Completely lost it when he saw the syringe. Not that I blame him after what happened before. I hated doing it, but he wouldn’t calm otherwise. It was becoming dangerous.” Alec could hear the regret in her tone that belied the frustration on her face. “I’m not sure what we will have when he wakes.”

Alec pushed past her to peer into the bedroom. Ellery was dead weight on the bed, sedated into oblivion. Cat perched on his hip watching over him. Alec’s gut told him there was no way they were going to come out of this without some fallout to Ellery’s mental state. 

Right. They needed to get back to Devil’s Gulch. “We need to move. Back to our cabin.” Alec brushed past both Bob and Grace to begin packing up. 

“I don’t like the idea of moving him, but you may be right. Getting him back home around familiar things would be best,” Grace conceded. 

Alec looked over his shoulder as he tossed things into the equipment duffles. They could sort through it all later. “How long will he sleep?”

“I gave him a full dose, he was so agitated. A good seven hours, at  _ least _ .”

“That’ll get us most of the way home if we drive straight through rather than spend the night somewhere,” Bob said. He had already folded up the satellite and stowed it in its special case and had moved on to breaking down his rifles to secure in theirs. “Sleep and drive in shifts. None of us have had much rest.”

Alec nodded at the bedroom door. “Grace, Bob and I can take care of all this. About an hour to get everything packed up and in the Explorer. Go in and be with Ellery. Maybe get a bit of sleep. Take the first shift?”

“Will do.” She disappeared into the bedroom.

Bob snapped and locked the closures on his rifle case and set it on the floor next to the satellite. “You think Grace is right? Did we just undo all the progress Ellery’s made?”

Alec looked over at the man he now considered a close friend. A man he trusted. 

He grabbed another empty duffle and shook his head. “I honestly don’t know.”


	52. The Road Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Double-O Six, I’m your new Quartermaster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday, all! Or at least as good a Monday as Mondays can be, I suppose.
> 
> Here's an update to shake off those Monday blues. Do let us know what you think. It's so needed right now. Ta, loves!

Ninety minutes later, they were on the road back to Devil’s Gulch. The hushed silence that always seemed to accompany night travel had settled in the car. Grace had taken the first shift driving. Bob was asleep in the passenger seat. Initially, she and Bob talked softly between themselves, but Alec couldn’t be bothered with their chatter. Now, Grace and Alec were each lost in their own thoughts and not inclined to talk. Even Cat was silent, watching from her perch atop the duffles in the back. Not even a purr. 

Ellery hadn’t roused when Alec picked him up and carried him to the Explorer but had instinctively curled against Alec, head in his lap, the moment they were both situated. El hadn’t moved since. Alec’s focus stayed on the limp form of Ellery draped across him. Did he push him too far? What was really going through Ellery’s head when he reached for Alec’s weapon? 

Alec ran a hand through the dark curls, brushing them away from Ellery’s face. What was his state going to be when he woke? It had torn at him to hear Q yelling upstairs whilst Alec told Mallory they were both resigning. Alec pulled Ellery in a tad closer, laying a hand on his chest, heart beating underneath his palm until he finally dozed off himself. 

Sometime later the bumpy motion of the Explorer pulling off the road woke him. “What’s wrong?” Immediately alert. Reaching for his weapon. 

Ellery didn’t even stir, still sedated. All arms and legs draped over the back seat. 

“It’s fine, Alec. Nothing’s wrong. Just changing drivers.” Grace reassured him, unbuckling her seatbelt. 

“Let me drive. I’ve slept.” Alec was already carefully shifting Ellery off his lap and opening his door. 

“I can,” Bob offered. 

“No. It’ll occupy me.” 

With nothing to look at but what the headlamps illuminated on the lonely stretch of Interstate 70, it wasn’t long before both Bob and Grace -- with Q curled up in a tight ball next to her -- were sound asleep, leaving Alec alone with his thoughts to contend with.

“Double-O Six, I’m your new Quartermaster.”

Those had been the first words Q ever said to him on comms. Posh. A tad arrogant. And way too fucking young.

“Do you get to wear long pants to work?” he’d asked.

The disappointment in Q’s tone had been palpable, even from 3,000 miles away. “Yes, how original. I’ve heard it all before, I assure you. Comments on everything from leaving the nursery two decades early to the condition of my complexion -- _not_ spotty, by the way -- and agents who won’t work with someone below the legal drinking age. Does my mum bring me to work? Do I report to Tanner for a nappy change? And my personal favourite, that my ‘youth is no guarantee of innovation.’ As the only field agent I’d not yet spoken with, I did so hope you’d prove to be different than all the others in your prejudices despite all I’d read about you in your file. Shame.”

“What have you read about me?”

“ _Everything_.”

Alec chuckled.

“Oh yes. M has left some extremely detailed commentary in your files referencing your missions and your other exploits.”

“That old cow. Don’t believe a word she said. She never liked me. Thought I corrupted her precious Bond.”

“Oh, on the contrary, she thought your mission success rate was exemplary. Unorthodox. Rogue. Bat shite crazy, I believe was her term of endearment for you, but your success rate at long term missions was far above anyone else the agency had on record.”

“Bat shite crazy, huh...” Alec had laughed at that one, fondly remembering some of the explosive arguments he had enjoyed with M after missions. 

After that first introduction, Alec and Q had spoken several times a week to see if Alec needed intel or other assistance, but it wasn’t until their near-disastrous third mission after which Alec finally accepted Q had his best interests at heart that their conversations started to drift to just chat. 

“No one tells me anything way out here, Q. What’s the current gossip? Who’s fucking whom?” 

A lorry passing on the left pulled Alec from his thoughts momentarily, and he glanced at Ellery’s sleeping figure in the rearview mirror then at the clock on the dash. Christ. He’d lost an hour in thought, and El didn’t seem to have so much as twitched in his sedated sleep.

Hours ...

The life of an MI6 agent was nowhere near as glamorous as television and film would have the public believe. It was dirty. Messy. Bloody dangerous. But most of the time it was mind-numbingly boring. An agent spent countless hours just waiting for things to happen. Waiting for the mark. Waiting for the weather to change. Waiting for the meet. Waiting for transportation. Waiting for … waiting …

The first decade of his career, he’d spent those hours waiting alone. The last ten months of it, he’d had Q. They’d talked about everything and nothing in those hours: weather, films, books, food, the latest betting pool in Q Branch, and everyone’s all-time favourite, who was Moneypenny dating now?

Though the Quartermaster was demanding, effective, and bloody brilliant when in mission mode, Q had been witty, engaging, and knowledgeable in a wide range of areas. Talking with Q felt like slipping into a comfortable pair of jeans. Familiar. No topic was off-limits, and they’d agreed early on that they’d always be truthful with one another, even if it might be occasionally painful or awkward. Alec had come to rely on those conversations to keep from losing the plot on more than one occasion. After years of being the solo agent, he’d come to look forward to the connection he felt through their chats. They’d left him feeling … 

Christ. 

They’d been _courting_ one another. All that time! Long-distance, _verbal_ courting.

Their last conversation on the comms had been a bet on a Sheffield United game against Manchester. Loser owed the winner dinner when Alec returned. A date.

“I’ll be happy when you’re on home soil, again. I’m … I’m looking forward to finally seeing you, Alec. Hearing your voice in person rather than across time zones.” Q had sounded almost shy, but then The Quartermaster re-engaged and he signed off with a crisp, “Sleep well, agent. I’ll see you in 36 hours.” 

Now, nearly six months later, Alec realised those were likely the last complete sentences Q would ever say to him.  
  
  
  
  



	53. Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’d … feel better if you stayed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crazy day around here. Realized I hadn't put up anything for the Fest today until about an hour ago. I did manage to get Monday's update posted, however, and here come's Tuesday's.
> 
> Seems we've been keeping you on pins and needles a lot, of late. Will this chapter give you a chance to breathe or kick things up a notch?
> 
> Hmmmmmm ...

Ellery was still out cold when they finally arrived back at the cabin. Wanting to keep him that way, Alec gently weaseled him out of the back seat. With Bob’s help, he propped El up against the Explorer until he could get a good grip on him and then toted his limp body into the cabin and straight up to their bedroom. 

Alec laid him out on the bed without any indication Ellery even realised they were back home. Stripping Ellery down to his pants, he tucked him in under the duvet. Cat meowed her approval and took up residence on Ellery’s pillow. 

Downstairs, Grace was already making a pot of coffee whilst Bob brought a few things in out of the Explorer that shouldn’t be left outside overnight. 

“Thought he’d wake by now,” Alec commented to really no one. 

“I did dose him heavily, Alec. He was so distraught.” Coffee finished, Grace handed him a cup and filled it, one cup far from enough to energise either of them. More habit at this point, than anything.

He swallowed a mouthful of bitter brew, bracing himself against the scald of it in his throat, letting the pain centre him. “And if he’s true to form, he’ll be out a couple of more days until he recovers … if he does. Christ! Grace, what did I do to him?!”

“You did what needed doing. You gave Ellery a way out,” Bob said, waving off Grace’s offer of coffee.

“But at what cost?”

“Ellery’s strong, Alec,” Grace reminded him. She’d managed to work through her own thoughts and emotions over what had happened in La Sal on the drive home and wasn’t nearly as angry as she had been. “A bit more fragile right now, maybe, but he’s learned coping strategies. I don’t anticipate he’ll regress completely. We’ll keep an eye on him, of course. Be here for him. Remind him that he’s safe.

“That’ll be the biggest thing, I think. Showing him he’s safe,” Bob agreed. He slid in next to Alec at the kitchen island. Stood very close to him. Supportive. “Saw a helluva lot of things in the Army I never wanted to see, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around what I witnessed back in that bunker. Bastard’s too good a term for Osler. Want more than anything to introduce Mallory’s head to a round from my rifle.”

“Not alone in that,” Alec finished his coffee and sat it on the worktop. He ran a hand over his face, bloody exhausted. Tired in a way that had nothing to do with the long drive. His soul was weary. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. You’ll both stay?”

The first rays of the sun were just coming over the horizon. They had driven through the night, and though they’d each got some sleep along the way, he didn’t like the thought of his friends driving home on so little true rest. The last few days had been trying to say the least. 

“I’d … feel better if you stayed.”

“I’m here until I can see Ellery is recovering,” Grace said.

Bob nodded. Understood what Alec wasn’t saying. “Just show me to my bunk.” 

When Alec finally woke, the empty space under the covers next to him had long since grown cold.

“El?” Alec’s call was just loud enough to reach the loo, not that he heard sounds from there anyway.

He hadn’t thought Q would have the energy to rouse for hours yet. A good sign? Perhaps he’d not been as shaken by the video call as Alec had feared. Rather than jump from the bed in a panic as he’d done several times before, Alec pulled on his jeans and a clean jumper from the dresser, tucked his Sig in at his back, and slipped into his trainers. He trusted Ellery to keep his promise to bundle up and stay close.

Though it was past noon, no noise came from the room where Grace slept. Good. She needed the rest. Alec descended the stairs, listening briefly at the door to the bedroom where Bob had camped out for the night. He, too, slept on. 

Flicking on the kettle, Alec considered what he had in the larder and checked out the contents of the fridge. There were eggs and bacon and patties of the venison sausage Gwen’s grandfather had brought the day of The Gardening. Tomatoes, mushrooms, and baked beans, too. Enough he could put together a decent fry up for the four of them. Ellery would either eat twice his weight in food or barely pick at it. Best see how much he might want before cooking up too much. The kettle boiled and Alec fixed two cuppas, taking them out to the porch.

“Here, I’m sure you haven’t had your cuppa yet.”

Odd. El usually preferred the front porch to think. Alec shrugged and rounded the house to the back porch. Contrary little shite as always. Just when he thought he’d figured out what-

No Ellery.

Something cold settled in Alec’s belly, but he sat the mugs on the railing and calmly yet quickly headed for the barn, slipping his weapon from its holster as he did so but holding it loose in his hand next to his leg. Eyes scanning the terrain, he saw no sign of danger. His instincts pricked but not quite in  _ that _ way.

He opened the barn door, ready to give Ellery a piece of his mind.

The barn was empty. Top. Bottom. Every nook and cranny. Every stall and cupboard. Empty.

Alec raced back to the house. Calling out Ellery’s name. He yanked open the back door, ready to search the house top to bottom, but he came to a sudden halt just inside the short corridor. 

It wasn’t there.

Q’s “go-bag” was gone.

“Grace! Grace!! Ellery’s gone! Wake up!” Alec yelled up the stairs. Cat stared down at him from the top landing. Cat was still here. Go-bag was gone but Cat was still here. That was telling. Alec had no clue why, but he knew it was and _not_ in a good way.

“Ellery’s gone?” Bob appeared at the doorway of the downstairs guest bedroom. Alec’s yelling had woken him too. “How long? Any idea?” 

“Did you….” Grace hurried down the stairs, buttoning her shirt as she came. 

Alec searched the main rooms to see what else had disappeared along with the go-bag. Nothing else seemed to be gone. Why only the go-bag?

“Checked the cabin. Porch. Barn. The ATV was still in the barn. He’s nowhere.” 

“Was he…” Grace started.

“I was fucking asleep!” Alec snarled at her. 

“Alec. Stop!” Grace tried to calm him. “We’ll find him. He can't have gone far.” 

“At least there isn’t fucking snow on the ground!” Alec headed to the door again to see if he could follow his trail. 

“Is there any way you can track him?” Bob was right behind him, pulling on his jacket. “That boy needs a long leash.”

Alec stopped and looked at Bob. The Smart Blood. Q had told him about the invention. A new way to track an agent’s location that couldn’t be extracted by agent or enemy. James had been the first. Other agents had since been ‘inoculated’ against disappearance, but as with all his inventions, nothing went into an agent’s hand -- or body -- without first-person testing by The Quartermaster. El had used the nanites serum on himself. They were in his system. 

But useless for now as Alec didn’t know how to track it. 

“Not as such,” was all Alec said. No point going over what couldn’t be used. Once he found Ellery, got him home safely, and managed  _ not  _ to kill him, then they could talk about utilising the Smart Blood in the future. “Bob, head out to the west. Grace, you head south. I’ll head out north then cut over toward the--”

He’d been reaching for his K-Bar fighting knife that he’d left in the basket on the edge of the kitchen worktop where he always tossed his wallet and the keys to the Explorer. He’d been so tired the night before he hadn’t bothered to lock it in the gun cabinet. Had just wanted to get upstairs to El. 

The knife was missing.

His blood rushed in his ears and he felt like he had been struck by a massive wave on the shore followed by another and another as he was assaulted by images from his memory.

Q pressing the muzzle of his weapon to his temple in Q-Branch.

Ellery reaching for Alec’s gun in the bunker.

Distressed enough Grace had to sedate him.

And the knife was gone.

“No. No! No!”

He was out the door in a shot. Grace and Bob shouting after him.

Out the door and down the steps, hoping to find a trace of which way Ellery had gone. 

“Please no, El!” What was going on in Ellery’s head? Go-bag gone. K-Bar gone. 

“Alec! What?” Grace and Bob had followed him out the back door. 

“My K-Bar! It’s missing!” It was then that Alec spotted two bare footprints in the dirt just a few feet from the steps. Leading away from the cabin. A couple more a short distance away. 

Heading in the direction of the lake. 

Alec was off as fast as he could, down the hill, watching the ground for signs of more footprints. He prayed to every god he could think of and then some that he wouldn’t find what he was afraid would be waiting for him at the water’s edge.


	54. The Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The early afternoon sun did not reflect off the matte black, carbon steel blade. Alec pushed back the image of it blacker still, coated in Ellery’s blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say I'm almost afraid of how you are going to respond to this chapter. The reactions to the last one were delightfully ... visceral. 
> 
> Love you all! Enjoy! 
> 
> Do let us know ...

There was a path through the trees to the lake. It was well-worn by the feet of previous owners and their families, but whilst Alec made use of it regularly on his perimetre checks, Ellery had never set foot on it let alone actually gone down to the lake. There were no favourite spots. No ‘go-to’ location to watch the fish feed in the early morning or to enjoy the sunset. 

Alec burst through the trees onto the wide strip of shore and realised he had no idea which direction Q would have headed. He tarried at the water’s edge only a moment before heading off to the right, praying that his gut was correct.

One hundred and fifty metres ahead of him through the trees, the road to the cabin curved around the lake. If Ellery had gone straight on, he could be on the highway and wandering into town or who knew where. But there weren’t any visible footprints heading that way, so Alec chose to keep to the shore. He broke into his tracker’s stride, a Double-O skill that allowed him to cover terrain quickly whilst keeping an eye out for signs of his quarry. 

He finally spotted more footprints in the dirt closer to the water’s edge as if Ellery had paused there and wandered back and forth before continuing on. Alec had to restrain his impatience and fear that pushed him to hurry to find Ellery. He held himself in check lest he miss Ellery’s path turning a different direction. Off behind he could hear Bob and Grace calling for him and for El, but he pushed forward. 

Alec rounded a thick stand of trees, and -- Oh, thank Christ! -- there 30 metres ahead along the lake's edge stood a disheveled Ellery. Blue jeans. T-shirt. Hoodie lying at his bare feet along with the go-bag. K-Bar in hand. 

Alec slowed to a walk and ducked behind a cluster of large rocks tall enough to shield him from El’s gaze should he look around. Q seemed to be fixated on the knife in his hand. Not good. No. Not a bit good.

Fear and worry surged, but Alec knew he couldn’t go into this with any of it showing. He’d surely spook El, and then anything could happen. He had to contain his emotions like on an assignment, but he couldn’t be 006 in mission-mode, either. 

Fuck.

 _Try to find the balance._ For once, the voice in his head didn’t sound like Grace.

Alec shifted his feet on the ground, physically centering himself. He pushed the heaviest of his emotions behind 006’s wall whilst trying to keep the more useful ones close to hand. He had no bloody idea if it would work or even if he could do it, but what other choice did he have? 

He pulled his weapon from its holster and set it on a natural ledge on one of the rocks. No sense borrowing more trouble. Alec could still feel the ghost of Ellery’s fingers trailing up his back in search of the Sig last night. 

Cracking his neck and taking three, deep, calming breaths, Alec stepped out from behind the rock, swinging wide toward the water so Q could see him coming in his periphery.

“Good morning, El.”

Elley didn’t respond. It was as if Alec wasn’t there. Lost. Someplace far away, and again Alec wished he knew where he drifted to when he was like this. Where his mind went. What was there that drew him away? 

“Bob and Grace are both awake. We’ve things to make a nice fry up. I could use some help. El? Ellery?” Alec slowly moved closer. Small steps. No fast moves. Nothing that would spook. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Ellery turned in the direction of Alec’s voice, eyes wide, watery, unfocused. 

“Come on El. Let’s head back up to the cabin. Warm up. Have some breakfast.” Alec stopped his forward movement when Ellery’s fingers twitched and tightened around the hilt of the K Bar. 

“Caaattt.” It was the saddest, most mournful thing Alec had heard in weeks. It cut at him with an edge far sharper than the knife in Q’s hand. 

Ellery kicked at the go-bag at his feet and dropped down to sit next to it. The gentle waves of the lake surged and retreated then swelled again, lapping at his toes. Alec took the opportunity to move a few metres closer but stopped as soon as Ellery’s eyes drifted his way again. 

Alec fell to his haunches. Made himself smaller. Non-threatening. He pointed at the duffle at Ellery’s side. “I know you understand the go-bag is for emergencies where your life's in jeopardy and running is the best option. I’ve never known you to be one to overreact or see danger where it didn’t exist.” 

It had been one of Q’s most valuable qualities as Quartermaster, his ability to read and interpret the danger in any particular situation and provide his agent with an appropriate and measured response when one was needed. Even in the months since his break, his responses to finding Cat in the barn and the gunmen in the pharmacy were proportional to the perceived danger. His anxiety at the Winter Festival and the chili supper was just that, anxiety. Not a response to a threat. So ... “So if you took the bag, you must have felt there was a threat. Felt you are in danger.”

Q didn’t reply. His attention was focussed solely on the knife. Fixated, he twisted it this way and that. The early afternoon sun did not reflect off the matte black, carbon steel blade. Alec pushed back the image of it blacker still, coated in Ellery’s blood. Stay focussed, Trevelyan!

“El? Talk to me. Do you think you’re in danger?”

A moment more and Q looked over his shoulder. His eyes were a bit more lucid, but ... “Cat.” Tentative. Frightened. 

“That’s a ‘yes’.” Alec shuffled closer, but Ellery spun away from him. His jerky, abrupt movement causing the knife in his left hand to nearly nick the tender flesh of his right wrist. Alec immediately stopped his advance. Fuck. Not what he’d wanted. He needed to find a way to … “El, there was no one else here. Nothing pinged the security system. I saw no one on my way to find you. The only ones here are us: you, me, Grace, and Bob.”

“CAT!”

Alec jerked at the sheer violence in Q’s voice, the fury and distrust in his eyes, and the way the knife was now pointed very intentionally at _him_. His shock must have registered on his face, though, because Ellery immediately retreated in on himself. His momentary rage sliding into an expression that hovered somewhere between betrayal and misery.

Alec played back in his head the last 24 hours hoping to understand and see what had set Ellery off and running. What was he missing? He obviously thought they... _he_ was in danger. El had woken up safe in the cabin. In their bed. And yet he had run. 

Christ, he wished there was a better way to communicate with Ellery. That he could hand him paper and pen and he could just write it all down, but they had tried that to no avail. Even sign language had proven useless. If it was code, Ellery was all there. Grace had once suggested an AI of sorts. Alec thought it brilliant, but Q had shot down the idea, managing to convey to them that even the most rudimentary programme would be too clunky, slow, and unreliable, and make him uncomfortable as a result. Maybe someday, he’d catted. 

Words were lost to Ellery, and Alec didn’t do code in any way, shape, or form that made sense, so they were at an impasse. Catting is what they had, so that’s what they would use.

“El... talk to me. _Try_ to tell me. Show me what’s going on in your head. Please, love.” 

“Alec?” Bob’s voice came from just behind them. Not far away. Ellery jumped up and scuttled back a few steps into the lake, eyes wild and panicked, grip tightening on the knife again. 

“Go back the way you came, Bob. Let the two of us chat here for a tad,” Alec demanded in as calm a tone as he could manage, not turning around or taking his eyes off Ellery. “It’s just you and me, El. Let’s figure this out.”

In his mind, Alec tried to process the events, view them from Q’s perspective. Glimpses of what they had done at the cabin in La Sal. The lead-off to their conversation with Mallory. Mallory being an utter twat. The support they had received from Scarlett and the others. 

And then... suddenly it dawned on Alec.

Oh, fuck!

He had sent Ellery out of the room right when Mallory was demanding Q be returned to MI6. Did El think he was going back to Six!? That Alec had given him up and retrieval agents were coming to get him?

Alec’s stomach dropped. Oh dear God! Ellery thought _they_ were the threat. That Alec, Grace, and Bob had betrayed him. He nearly jumped to his feet, but Ellery twitched when his feet scuffed in the dirt and raised the knife. Alec sat back abruptly on his heels again. It was far too close to El’s throat this time. Deliberate or not, Alec wasn’t willing to risk it. 

With slow, telegraphed movements, Alec twisted slightly and lifted his jumper so El could see the empty holster on his back. Tugging on the fabric at his shins, he pulled up the legs of his jeans enough to show Ellery he didn’t have his backup weapon, either. He then leaned forward, knees on the damp earth of the shoreline, hands out, palms up. 

“You think I’m sending you back to Six, don’t you?”

“Cat!” It was a snarl. Q slashed at the air between them with the knife then pointed it at something he saw over Alec’s right shoulder. Bob and Grace, more than likely. Or wherever they had hidden themselves. At least the blade wasn’t at El’s own throat anymore.

Alec nodded. “They sedated you. Bob told me he had to hold you down so Grace could do it. He feels bloody awful about that. They were afraid you were going to try to hurt yourself again. You tried to grab my gun in the bunker.”

Ellery blinked. The anger on his face was replaced by surprise. The knife lowered a tad.

“Cat?” Confused. 

“You don’t remember doing that?”

Ellery shook his head. 

It made sense, in a way. The impossible stress of the situation followed so closely by sedation. God, they had fucked up. No wonder Ellery thought he’d been betrayed. Alec said as much, then added ...

“I told Mallory we quit, Ellery. After you left, I told Mallory we weren’t coming back to Six. I lied to him and told him we’d moved on to a new location. We were going dark. They’d never find us. If I did my job right, he and Osler think we’re on the other side of the world from where we are.”

He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, so strong were the emotions rolling through him. “I will _never_ give you up to them, Ellery MacManus. I will protect you from them and from anyone else who would hurt or use you.”

“Cat?” Surprise. Bewilderment.

“Because I love you, you little shite!”


	55. Mallory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Track them!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last chapter was a bit of a roller coaster, wasn’t it? 😈 Such wonderful feedback, though. Your comments made getting through a rough week a tad easier. We thank you! 💕

The video connection dropped. 006 had just delivered his formal resignation along with one for MI6’s missing Quartermaster. 

Mallory was not only astounded and seething but intensely furious.

“Track them!” he demanded of R who shook her head after only a smattering of half-hearted keystrokes on her laptop.

“There’s nothing to grab hold of. The connection’s severed. They’re gone.” Her voice was tight with anger and a tad rebellious, suggesting that even if there had been something to track, she mightn’t have done so.

“I want them both back here, Tanner!” Mallory snapped. He jumped up from the table. Pacing the line of windows in his agitation, he pressed the heel of his palm against his temple and the pain that was starting up again. “Both of them. Or if only one of them, the Quartermaster! Back within MI6,“ he stopped and faced them. “And if not, retire them both.”

“You pushed too hard, sir, and now they’ve gone to ground. We can’t even find their location,” Moneypenny argued. “They could be anywhere from Johannesburg to Norilsk.”

“Until and unless you can provide irrefutable intel that either 006 or the Quartermaster is a clear, present, and direct threat to the country -- which you can’t -- you’ll get no assistance from the agent corps.” Scarlett stood toe to toe with Mallory, staring him down though she was practically half his size. “Even you can’t order us to operate outside of the law, M. We won’t go against Trevelyan. He’s trying to save the Quartermaster. You should know by now that once Trevelyan has his mindset on something, he’s like a dog after a bone. You’ll never find them or they’ll die running... and take a lot of others with them in the process.”

The debate began. Mallory and Osler against Moneypenny, Papava, Martel, and R, all of whom tried to keep their cool against Osler’s calling into question The Quartermaster’s treatment abroad and Mallory’s anger and accusations of betrayal, mutiny, and even treason. It was loud. It was unproductive.

It threatened to tear apart the relationships that made MI6’s leadership structure so strong. 

“I want them back!” Mallory demanded with a sweeping gesture that was meant to silence the lot of them.

“No, sir!” Tanner’s shout did what Mallory’s gesture failed to do. The gentle rattle of water moving through old pipes in the wall sounded clearly in the suddenly silent room. Bill Tanner  _ never _ shouted. 

“No, sir,” he repeated in the stunned quiet, doing his best to ignore the approving smirk on Scarlett’s red lips. He passed his tablet to M and pointed at a highlighted portion of the document on the screen. “Both Agent Trevelyan and the Quartermaster are perfectly within their rights to resign their posts with the SIS  _ without _ prejudice.”

Mallory glared at Tanner then skimmed what he had been provided as his Chief of Staff explained. “Trevelyan turned 45 a fortnight ago, making him eligible for official retirement.  _ Not  _ of the kind you are suggesting.” Tanner turned his attention to Osler. “Say what you want about the doctor who has been treating Q, she was fully vetted prior to starting his treatment, and her credentials came back better than yours if you must know. Her last two reports strongly advised that Q take an immediate medical retirement which Dr Martel supported but for some reason, you rejected out of hand. The Quartermaster is ill and may never fully recover. I think we all saw that for ourselves today. His service to the SIS has been impeccable and honourable. He has saved us, our country, and our allies in countless ways. He deserves our respect, our appreciation, and our thanks. He does not deserve to be hunted down like a rabid animal. Our policies and procedures for retirement -- both medical and otherwise -- are clear, and both Trevelyan and The Quartermaster qualify under their specific terms.”

“Q is a danger in his current state,” Mallory interjected. He pulled a small handful of the ever-present paracetamol tablets he kept his pocket and downed them with the last of his coffee. The literal and metaphoric headache he’d had for months pounded and throbbed and stabbed inside his skull. “If our enemies get ahold of him --”

Scarlett laughed out loud. “As if Trevelyan would  _ ever  _ let that happen. He’s willing to risk his life to protect Q from  _ you _ , so do you really think he wouldn’t risk it twice over to keep Q from falling into anyone else’s hands?”

“M, you don’t really want me to go to the other agents and tell them about your treatment of the Quartermaster or the real reason that Trevelyan went dark with him, do you?” Scarlett continued. “Not the type of rebellion your tenure as Director of MI6 could survive, I would think.”

R jumped in the conversation then also, “Sir, we need Q available to us no matter the shape he’s in. Even ill, he’s the best there is, and someday in the near future, we’re going to need him to assist us. So wouldn’t it make more sense for us to keep a good relationship with him and Trevelyan? Keep them running, and in the long run, we’ll regret it.”

“There is a reason Mansfield made him Quartermaster, sir. R may be good, but she is  _ not  _ Q. No offense R,” Tanner added nodding to her. “M, you and I both know that Q Branch would never be able to keep him out if he wanted to wreak havoc with us. Best to let it go, Sir. Keep both of them at least somewhat on our side.”

“Assuming we’re ever able to contact them again. You and Osler may have just made that impossible.” Moneypenny’s tone was as pointed as the heels she wore. It was clear she feared never hearing from her friend again. 

Mallory sighed, grumbled, and headed towards the liquor stash in the locked cupboard beneath the screen. Pain killers weren’t going to be enough. There was no way he was going to win this one… no way at all. 

  
  
  
  
  



	56. Comm Chats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think we both know there are other ways I could cure my boredom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many great thoughts and opinions on Mallory and the rest of the MI6 crew. We thought it was important to get a glimpse about what was going on back in London after Alec cut the video feed. It seems you agreed with us. Thank you, ever so, for the comments and observations!
> 
> Here is today's update!
> 
> Okay, and right AFTER I hit “Post,” I realize today is Sunday, not Monday. Ugh! I absolutely cannot keep track of days anymore. Well, that means a Bonus Chapter for you!
> 
> Enjoy! 💕🙂

“I swear to god, Ellery. You promised! “ Alec stepped out the front door of the cabin, snarling as he waved a pair of blue jeans in the air. “You cannot be out in the garden like that! You’re bloody starkers and you’ll catch your death, you little shite!”

Ellery appeared at the edge of the garden, stark arse naked and covered in dirt from weeding his now flourishing plants. His skin was rosy from the cool morning air and the sun on his pale skin. Cat sat at his feet. Both stared at Alec as if he were on _their_ “shite list.”

“Cat!” El huffed back at Alec. 

“Don’t you sass me! Trousers on, shirt too, or no more garden for you today.” Alec waved the blue jeans at him again. Ellery stomped across the yard snatching the blue jeans from him as he headed towards the cabin. Cat followed with her nose turned up, pointedly showing Alec her arse as she followed Ellery inside. 

“And besides, I’m going to need to buy you sunscreen by the bucket if you keep this up. And don’t expect any sympathy when you’re sunburnt either!” Alec called after him.

It had been just over a fortnight since the video call in La Sal and the resulting fallout. Alec’s unexpected lakeside declaration had stunned them both, but it -- along with Alec’s awkward, rambling explanations as to _why_ \-- had completely killed any fears Ellery had that Alec had sold him out to Six. Apparently admitting that he’d probably fallen in love with Q sometime during their comms chats was all the explanation the former Quartermaster needed. He’d promptly dropped the knife and practically climbed Alec like a tree, so eager was he to kiss him and kiss him … and kiss him. 

When they finally returned to the cabin, Grace and Bob had been quick to try to explain their involvement, but it hadn’t been necessary. As on the night of Alec’s nightmare, once he was calm and a tad more focussed, Ellery had been able to process a bit better everything that had happened and came to more rational conclusions. He pulled Grace into a tight hug before she could get a complete sentence out. Bob got a nod, a smile, and a solemn “Cat.”

And that was that.

Then Cat started screaming her displeasure at having been left behind.

As the daily temperatures increased, so, too, had the amount of time El spent outdoors. Usually starkers or near enough to it. El loved being outside with nothing between his skin and the air and sky. And given how many years Q’d spent below ground, away from even the dimmest London, cloud-blocked, rays of the sun, Alec had a hard time putting too many limitations on him but clothes were a must.

And while a good part of Alec appreciated the view -- Christ the man had a luscious arse! -- not all their guests were announced. They’d continued to get somewhat regular visitors who wanted to contribute to the garden in one way or another, and the last thing Ellery needed was the wrong reputation.

Nevertheless, wearing clothes had turned into a constant battle between Alec and Q. 

Although Alec was constantly on watch for any sign that MI6 was searching for them, life seemed to settle into a routine for the two of them at the cabin in the weeks thereafter. There had been no contact, attempted or direct, in either direction, and Alec hoped to keep it that way. In some ways, he hated cutting Q off from Moneypenny but for now, that was how it had to be. 

And whilst the garden bloomed and grew as the season passed, Q did not show signs of progressing any further himself. Alec had decided that if that was the case, they would find a way to manage. 

One morning in mid-May, Ellery, with Cat in tow, stopped and stood next to Alec who was sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee and reading a book. With a demanding, almost scolding, “Cat!” Ellery presented Alec first with the dinner-for-two gift certificate he had won at the Winter Festival and then his tablet queued up with something ready for Alec to listen to. Ellery and Cat then promptly vanished out to their morning garden inspection leaving a curious Alec behind. 

With a final look at the pair as the screen door shut behind them, Alec shrugged and slid the wireless headphones from his pocket into his ears and hit play on the audio file.

Q’s laughter filled his ears. And Alec’s heart swelled at the sound. He’d forgotten the sound of that giggle.

“You did _not_ ! Naked lime jelly wrestling to gain entrance to the-- No. I can picture you doing any number of salacious things to obtain intel during your career, Trevelyan, but even _my_ imagination has limits.”

“So you’ve been thinking about me, have you, Quartermaster?” Alec’s own voice, low and suggestive, sounded in his ears followed by the sound of Q gently clearing his throat.

“It’s my job to think of my agents.”

“ _Salacious_ things?” The word was drawn out. “That’s what you said. Come now, Q. We’ve been talking almost daily for weeks now.”

“I _am_ running your current mission.”

“We’re not on the clock now.”

“Most of the time we’re not on the clock. We spend more time on unofficial comms than official, I admit.”

“I like talking to you.”

“You’re bored.”

“ _And_ I like talking to you. I think we both know there are other ways I could cure my boredom.”

“Please don’t! Six doesn’t have the budget to cover the destruction.”

Suddenly Alec remembered what he was listening to. It was from a conversation on private comms -- one of many -- they’d had months before Q’s break whilst Alec was on assignment in Port Moresby after Alec had finally trusted that the new Quartermaster might actually know what the fuck he was doing. Early in the mission, Alec had needed some intel confirmed late at night, but what had started as a simple check-in turned into a long conversation about quality seafood restaurants around the world. Alec checked in again the next night. Routine. They ended up talking about where to find the best steak. Once the preliminaries were over on the third night it was an extensive conversation on tequila. 

The agent and his Quartermaster abandoned the pretense of a formal check-in on the fourth night and on most nights thereafter.

“Back to the original question. Thinking about me? _Unofficially_?”

The sigh was one Alec was very familiar with, even now. “Yes.”

Then the file jumped to a conversation on another evening. Q had been on duty more hours than was healthy and still had another mission to run in five hours. Not enough time to go back to his flat to rest so he was kipping on the sofa in his office. And yet, exhausted as he was, he couldn’t sleep. 

“006, are you there?”

“I am, Quartermaster. Is this conversation business or pleasure? Not your usual call time.”

“Need to sleep for a tad and it’s not happening. 003 will be coming online in five hours,” Q sighed. Alec of now could hear what sounded like a sofa creak in the background as the Q of then was trying to get comfortable but was instead tossing and turning. “Talk for a few? Maybe I’ll dose then.”

“Are you trying to say my bubbling, suave personality and conversations are boring?” Alec chuckled.

“Arse.”

“Of course I am. Aren’t all the Double-Os? Don’t you know that’s part of our training...”

“Still an arse...” Q sighed, sounding exhausted, voice lacking his usual cutting snark. 

“How long have you been on duty, Q?”

“Longer than any human should have to be here. Remind me to work more on that AI version of me so he can do all the long mission hours whilst I lounge here on the sofa.”

“That same nasty, leather sofa that Boothroyd had?”

“The one and only. Lovely piece of furniture. Must have been retrieved from Churchill’s office.” The sofa creaked again as Q sighed. 

“You should sleep, Q. I can give you a wake-up comm call in four hours if you like.” 

“I’d appreciate that. Will set an alarm also, but just in...”

“Sleep, Quartermaster. I’ll talk with you then.”

“Don’t go!”

Nearly a year later and Alec still heard the slightly panicked edge in Q’s voice. One that, in retrospect, revealed far more than it had at the time.

“Q?!”

“Please … just …” The sigh. Frustration. Embarrassment. “Stay?”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Alec remembered he’d been nearly ready to text Moneypenny to check in on The Quartermaster, Q had sounded so lost. He should have done.

“Yes? No. Yes. Yes, I’m okay …”

“Not inspiring a lot of confidence here, Q.”

“It’s … foolish.”

“Drinking orange juice right after brushing your teeth is foolish.”

“Gah! That’s horrific!”

“But _foolish_ because we know what’s going to happen every time, yet still we do it. And I told you the story about the petrol can and the microwave.”

“How you managed to save your eyebrows boggles the mind.”

“Foolish, yes?”

“Extremely!”

“Whatever you’re wanting, but not wanting to say to me, is not going to be anywhere near as foolish as that, so say it, Q. Tell me what you need.”

“I need … a hug.” The chuckle that accompanied the admission was as self-deprecating as any Alec had ever heard.

There was a long pause in the recording. Alec could hear Q’s breathing as he waited for Alec to respond.

Finally …

“From me?”

The familiar sigh. “Yes.”

The segment of the recording ended there. For that night’s portion, at least. They both knew a hug to be impossible under the circumstances, but Alec had assured Q he would have been more than willing. They talked about pointless things until Q finally felt he’d be able to sleep.

The audio file resumed with their conversation three nights later.

“A gift package from Amazon arrived for me at the front desk today.”

“Did it now?”

“Yes. Courtesy of Robert Sterling.”

“Nice bloke, that Robert. What did he send you?”

“A hug.”

The morning after Q’s far from foolish request, Alec had been waiting for his mark to show -- he hadn’t -- and spent the intervening hours mindlessly browsing Amazon’s ‘Deals of the Day’ when he stumbled upon a weighted blanket marketed as “Just like Getting a Hug in Bed.”

Of course, he bought it.

And had it shipped. Or, rather, Robert Sterling had.

“Does the Quartermaster approve?”

“It’s perfect. Thank you. I’m under it now. Going to catch a nap. Nomi’s mission begins in four hours.”

“Is it?”

“Is it what?”

“Like getting a hug in bed?”

“You’ll have to join me sometime and find out.” Alec nearly spit out his coffee all over the table at Q’s suggestive tone.

Alec stopped the audio playing. He picked up his cuppa and stared at the tablet screen. These conversations... the underlying unsaid things. How has he missed this? He could just hear Moneypenny telling him what an eejit he was. 

Over those few months, they had spent more time chatting together long-distance over the comms than most couples did who actually lived together. Alec rose, refilled his cuppa, and returned to stand next to his chair. 

What was this? Why had Ellery compiled the file? Was it somehow his way of trying to tell Alec how _he_ felt? Alec sighed. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he sat down again and tapped play once more. 

Q’s voice filtered through his ears buds again and Alec knew _this_ conversation all too well. Had pulled it up in his memory on the trip back from Utah but had never thought to actually hear it again. This time he listened, carefully, to every word and nuance. Q sounded exhausted. Distracted. He drifted in the conversation as if there was something interrupting his train of thought, drawing his attention away from the discussion. How had he missed this before?

It was all there for anyone with brains enough to actually listen to Q. To hear him.

 _Can’t anyone hear me?_

Fuck!

Sheffield was playing Manchester. They had a long, running battle going about how Sheffield played. This time whether they would get beaten by Manchester. Q dared to bet Alec dinner on the match. Of course, Manchester thoroughly trounced Sheffield. Q brightened in their chat long enough to gloat. Alec owed him a dinner date. That explained the gift certificate that Ellery had given him along with the tablet. The little shite hadn’t forgotten. 

Alec continued to listen until the audio ended with Q’s voice distracted and pained yet... hopeful… awkward… telling him, “I’ll see you in 36 hours. Safe travels, 006.”


	57. A Garden Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re going to be alright, El.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW it's Monday!! LOL 🤦🏼♀️
> 
> Thank you again for all the comments and delightful analysis of the unexpected Sunday bonus chapter. As a literature teacher and a writer it absolutely delights me (and Boffin!) that so many of you have made this your own in terms of extracting meaning from our words. Boffin and I agree that because of all of you, we feel we are contributing something meaningful to this fandom family. 🥰
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> We hope you enjoy the REAL Monday update!
> 
> Cheers and much love! 💕

“A bit of a berk, aren’t I?” 

El was knelt in front of one of his flower gardens, weeding. Though he wore no shoes, he was -- for once -- clothed in a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a green t-shirt printed with: “Gardening is cheaper than therapy, and you get tomatoes!” Cat was nearby, sat squarely in her special herb garden, watching him. He peered up at Alec, squinting slightly against the sun. Alec stepped to the right, blocking the glare, and held out a water bottle. Ellery brushed off his hands -- he never used gardening gloves, wanting the feel of the earth on his skin -- and took the offering with a nod. He pulled off his big, brimmed gardening hat, rose, and curled up on a nearby bench Sam and Oona brought over earlier in the week.

“Cat.” Yes, you are. A pillock, in fact.

Alec sat down next to him. “How could I forget those things? I … I even got it into my head that you wanted James as a permanent thing. Had been …” he looked at Ellery, sheepishly, “I dunno, still pining for him?”

Ellery’s eyes widened in shock. “Cat!” 

“I forgot everything that mattered.” Alec was more than a bit disappointed in himself. “How could I do that?”

Ellery took Alec’s hands in his and guided them into his hair, pressing his fingers around the curve of his skull, moulding them to fit his skull. El then flattened his right palm over Alec’s heart, repeating the process over his own with his left. 

“Alec.” Ellery’s shrug shifted Alec’s hands in his hair, sliding them along his scalp. 

Ellery’s hair always felt so soft. There was so much of it, and the curls caught around his fingers like tender vines about a sturdy flower stem, but the heat radiating from El’s scalp warmed Alec’s hands. He felt the slight surge of blood through Ellery’s veins, and the flex of his temples as he swallowed. Thought, too, he could feel the sheer power of Q’s brain and the intellect that sparked within, unable to flare fully into flame through his words.

“Cat.”

And like that, Alec understood. “I forgot because there were … other things to worry about.”

Ellery nodded. A slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Ellery patted Alec’s chest again over his heart. 

“We’re going to be alright, El. I’ll watch out for you.” Alec’s fingers caressed through his hair. “We’ll stay here as long as we can. But no matter where we are, I will take care of you.”

Alec sighed brushing long curls away from Ellery’s forehead. “How did I forget all those chats... and yes I know before you remind me again. I’m a berk. You know, maybe your friend Robert Sterling could send you another gift hug?” Alec chuckled at the thought of Q opening up his package in Q Branch in front of his minions. 

“Cat!” It was a chastising comment, and Ellery wiggled around on the bench. He pressed his back to Alec’s chest, pulled one of Alec’s arms around him and snuggled in. 

“Oh, so you want the real thing.” And Alec was more than willing to give him one. 

The two sat there on the bench, silent, letting the sun warm them in the cool spring air. Ellery curled up in his arms, dark curls tucked under his chin. Ellery was happy here, content, even under the circumstances. 

And so was he. God, he was turning into a soppy, old git. 

Alec rolled his eyes behind Ellery’s back, thinking about how Q had put together snippets of their late-night chats over the comms. 

Chats... over the comms. Recorded chats. Over comms. Recorded in Q Branch. Over comms. 

“Ellery! You little shite!” Alec pulled back enough that he could turn Ellery around enough to see his face. “You’ve been inside Six again! Since we’ve been back! In their servers to get those audio records! What were you thinking?!”

“Cat,” Ellery shrugged as if he really didn’t care. His second ‘cat’ Alec took to mean either “They’re my files, anyway” or “They never knew I was there, so why the fuss?” 

Alec cupped his face. “Look at me, so I know you’re listening. I’m talking to Q now. Not Ellery.” Q’s huff of frustration was accompanied with a cocked eyebrow, but it was a clear gaze that met Alec’s. “If you’ve gone in on your own like this, you’ll go in again. I _know_ you will! It’s so fucking dangerous, but I also know you’ll never let them track you. You’re too good. But please let it be for a bloody good reason and tell me when you do. I can’t protect you if I’m missing key intel. I won’t try to stop you. Like I even could. And I won’t hover except to make sure you’re alright. Promise me, Q. Promise me!” 

Q frowned at the sight of Alec’s brow furrowed with worry for him. He reached up and tried to smooth the grooves away with the pad of his thumb, but it wasn’t until he promised with a sincere “Cat, Alec. Cat,” and a lingering kiss that the wrinkles and the worry faded from Alec’s face.

Alec pulled back abruptly, suddenly struck by a thought. “And why are you alright? You slept for four days once we got things settled at the lake. You were most definitely _not_ alright after your contact with Mallory and Six. But … You’ve not had any of the symptoms of a Six Coma,” he said, using the term Bob had coined after the video conference.

Q’s shrug didn’t adequately convey what he was trying to express. Nor did the series of ‘cats’ that followed, leaving Alec in the dark as far as what Ellery had determined was the reason why he hadn’t been affected by the Six Coma. El’s brows furrowed, and his mouth undulated, fighting against the disconnect between his brain and his voice.

And finally, it came.

“M..m...mi..ne.” The look of concentration didn’t fade, but Ellery’s eyes shone with his pleasure at having found the word. “M..m ..mine. M..mine!” he repeated.

“Yours.”

Ellery nodded. 

“What was yours?” Knowing he had to suss out the story on his own, Alec asked the questions. Ellery nodded yes or no to each. “You hacked into Six to get the comm files so you could help me pull my head out of my arse.”

Yes.

“Did you grab anything else?”

No.

“Did R track you?”

No.

“You’re sure? Ow! You know that’s my bad shoulder. No hitting. So yeah, you’re sure. But no hint of a Six Coma?”

No.

“Because … ‘mine’.”

Yes.

“Mine … Oh! You _chose_ it! You went in on your own. Your choice. You weren’t forced. Nothing you had to prove. You made the decision. Mine. That’s why you weren’t ill afterward?”

“Cat.” Ellery shrugged and nodded and turned back around in Alec’s arms to be hugged again.

“Yeah. I suppose it does make a certain degree of sense. As much as anything does with any of this,” Alec said, dropping a kiss atop Q’s head.

Ellery smiled. 

  
  
  
  
  


  
  



	58. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Today, he didn’t even show any interest in the garden.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday to you all!!
> 
> Here's an update to start your day off right! We hope! 😈💕

“And you’ve no idea what might have triggered it?” Grace pulled Alec’s ceramic mug from the shelf below the Raven’s Roast logo on the wall and filled it with the extra-strong brew she’d made for him when he’d called her on their way in to let her know what he’d be dealing with.

Alec took a sip, grunted his thanks, and took another before answering. “None. He was a tad absent when we went to bed last night, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Responded when I needed him to. Cuddled with Cat. That sort of thing.” 

“But not …” she gestured at Ellery sat across the shop in his customary spot, but unlike the last several months where he engaged, at least on some level, with those around him, he stared blankly at the cool blue wall in front of him just as he had the day Grace met him. In his own world. Completely lost.

“Not unresponsive, no.” 

“I don’t know what happened. This morning we were back to square one. Can’t manage zippers,” Alec sighed, frustrated and confused. “Buttons were a lost cause too. Didn’t even acknowledge Cat, which pissed her off to no end. _Lots_ of howling. And of course, the seat belt was a complete mystery again.”

“Anything in the last week that seemed... significantly stressful?” Grace quizzed him, trying to get a grasp on what may have brought Ellery’s retreat on again. 

“I don’t know. He’s seemed so much better. In touch. Engaged. But today, he didn’t even show any interest in the garden.”

Grace watched Ellery from their spot at the counter. Silent. Distant. Unfocused. Alec had led him into the shop as he had on that first day. Sat him in his chair, and Q hadn’t moved since. 

“He did make a huge step in trying to communicate. Not in words but in trying to show me what he was thinking and feeling.” Alec sketched out for Grace only the bare bones of the audio files Ellery had shared with him. At least the ones that had reminded Alec how his relationship with El had started long ago -- somethings were personal, after all -- but he went into detail about the others Q had dug out of Six’s servers for him to listen to. The ones that were illuminating in an entirely different way. “Come. Sit. I want you to hear them.” He guided Grace to a seat on the other side of the shop from Ellery and handed her the iPad and his earbuds. “He gave me permission to share these with you.”

Twenty minutes later Grace stopped the playback and pulled out the earbuds. “Alec …” she was stunned. “This explains so much. It’s like finding the Rosetta Stone.” From bits of conversation Alec and Q had had over the course of months, some just a sentence or two, Ellery had pulled out relevant snippets and edited them in a way that shed some light on his other world. Of where he went in his head when he was away. “How did it not take him weeks to put this together? The digging he must have done.”

Alec looked back at Ellery. “Eidetic memory and excellent record-keeping would be my guess. On missions, he never had a problem finding _exactly_ what I needed from him, no matter how deeply the intel was buried in the files. Once El had these records, it wouldn’t have taken him long to put everything together. Sneaky little shite that he is.”

“It’s typical for young children, especially ones of Ellery’s intellect, to create imaginary worlds and people for themselves where they’re comfortable and safe,” Grace said of the information Q had cobbled together for them. “Friends who accept them and the like. But with the deaths of his parents at an early age, the loss of his aunt before he was a teen, and then being placed into government-run care … that created world would have been the only safe place he knew.” Grace slid the iPad and earbuds back across the table. 

“So, after his break …”

Grace nodded. “He went back to the only truly safe place he knew.” 

The mental recreation of his beloved Auntie’s home.

Alec watched him silently. From very the beginning, Q had been trying to tell him things in those late night chats, though in very roundabout ways. At the time, Alec had neither heard what Q was really saying nor had he understood. 

“It makes a bit more sense now,” Grace continued. “We now know where he goes, and a bit of the why, but the how … it seems as if the edges of his two worlds have meshed together, and sometimes it’s easier for his feet to be in that world rather than in this one. Right now he’s immersed in the one that’s far away. I wish I had files on him from an earlier age.”

“Oh, I am sure the little shite has long since made all those disappear. Digital _and_ paper copies,” Alec scoffed knowing just how private and secretive Q could be. 

“Think you can handle it being this way? I’m not giving up, by any means, but this could be as far as he is ever going to progress. Always partially here and there.”

Alec abruptly turned her, anger flaring in his eyes for a brief moment before he reeled it back in. Grace meant well. She was only thinking of Ellery... and him. 

“I meant what I said when I told him I would always look out for him.”

Grace didn’t reply. Instead, she rose from the table and patted his arm before taking his cup. Pouring a refill at the counter, she asked Mele to keep an eye on things a bit longer and chatted with Eda Kagawa to ask after her ailing mother while Sam built her take out grande flat white, delaying just long enough to give Alec a chance to calm and centre himself a bit more before she returned to their table. 

“But that’s not what you meant, is it?” he said when she sat down again. Alec took a sip from the mug she handed him. “You want to know if I’m going to be okay committing myself to Ellery when he may never be able to fully engage with me … with _us_ because of his illness.”

“Can you find happiness and contentment for _you_ knowing that this may be as far as he’ll ever get?”

He leaned back in his chair and looked not at her nor at Ellery but out the window at the people bustling about on this beautiful spring day. Being Sunday, the main street was filled with those popping into stores, grabbing a bite to eat, or just window shopping. Singles, couples, families with small children, others with their dogs, but it was the couple standing beneath a flowering crabapple tree outside the shop that caught his attention: Aaron and Kyle Allen. Alec had met them when they came out to the cabin to help with the garden. Aaron was an academic from Nigeria who taught at the middle school. Kyle, born and raised in Devil’s Gulch, was an EMT who worked down at the resorts. They met when Aaron broke his leg on a Double-Black Diamond slope. Kyle had ridden with him during his transfer down to Denver for surgery. They had been together ever since. 

Aaron said something that had Kyle smiling. Kyle’s response, long and punctuated with many gestures, had Aaron barking with laughter Alec could hear through the glass of Raven’s Roast. Aaron pulled the shorter Kyle to him, gave him a quick kiss, and a playful smack on the arse, and they disappeared down the street arm in arm.

Grace saw where Alec’s attention was centred. And waited.

“It’s not easy some days. Days like today,” he admitted. They just weren’t. Too much worry. Too much wondering. “I get frustrated. With everything that caused this in the first place. Could’ve … should’ve been prevented.”

He took another sip of his coffee. Still watching the people passing by on the pavement. “I didn’t think twice about deciding to protect him. Take care of him. It just sort of happened, but it’s always felt like the right thing to do. And in light of what he’s reminded me of through the audio files, it’s felt right because I … loved him before any of this started.” 

Alec frowned at his coffee mug in thought, fingers tapping on the tabletop. Finally, he looked at Grace. “He frustrates the fuck out of me. Drives me spare with worry sometimes. But he makes me laugh. Ellery’s sense of humour … I can’t explain it. He makes me feel wanted, not just needed. We’re finding our own way to communicate. It’s messy, but it’s working. I may never know the full scope of his thoughts like I did before, but I think I can sense the depth of his emotions. Especially the ones he might feel for me. Maybe. He’s not always subtle. I’m more at peace with him than I’ve ever been. And, yes, Ellery makes me happy. We won’t have what Aaron and Kyle have. Or at least not the _way_ they have it, but maybe we can have more. Our more.”

Grace smiled and swallowed back the tears that threatened.

“I just hope I make him happy and can give him what he needs.” Alec suddenly sat his cup down and stood from the table, the conversation over for the day. 

“Should get him back to the cabin. Tends to nap a lot when he’s like this.” Grace knew that fact very well, just as she knew Alec’s casual remark was his way of moving past having had a serious and open talk about his feelings for more than 30 seconds. A typical, British male segue. 

“Time to go, El.” Alec laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Gently tapping his cheek, attempting to get what focus he could out of him, his hand moved to Q’s elbow to indicate he needed Ellery to stand, which he did after a tad more coaxing. 

“I’ll keep you posted over the next couple of days, Grace. We’ll see what happens.” Sliding El’s arms into his light jacket, Alec zipped him up before getting into his own windcheater. A light rain had started to fall outside as it often did in the afternoons. 

“Call me if you need me. You know I’ll come out, day or night.” 

Mele appeared at Grace’s elbow. “Go cup of lemonade for Ellery.”

“Ta. I’m sure he will enjoy it. Time to leave, El. Say goodbye.” But there was no indication that Ellery even realised Alec was speaking to him. Alec took the lemonade in one hand and Q by the other and herded him out. 

Tinned tomato soup in a mug. When Ellery went deep into his world like this, the only thing Alec could get into him with any degree of ease was tinned tomato soup in a mug. When they arrived home, Alec got El situated in the comfy chair they had put in front of the window that looked out onto the bulk of the garden. Cat hopped into his lap to babysit whilst Alec took care of dinner. He heated the soup with milk instead of water and added a few scoops of protein powder to the mix to increase the nutrients and calorie count. El was still too thin by half and couldn’t afford to lose more when he was like this and eating was sketchy at best. It took the better part of an hour and two reheatings in the microwave, but Ellery eventually drained the mug and surprisingly managed one triangle of a cheese toastie. 

Alec counted it a victory.

Rather than bother with telly, Alec put on some music -- a playlist he knew Ellery liked -- and read on the sofa whilst El continued to stare out the window at the garden from his chair. Alec glanced over at him every so often, just to make sure he was okay, but he’d learned to curb his worry. Ellery would come back when he was ready.

Or so Alec hoped.

An hour or so after the sun finally set, Q left the chair and curled up on the sofa next to Alec and lay his head on his thigh. Cat curled up in the small hollow behind El’s knees. Ellery curled one hand around Alec’s knee and sighed.

“Cat,” he whispered and closed his eyes.

Alec smiled, slipped his hand into El’s hair, and carded his fingers through the curls. “Sleep now. Your garden will want to see you in the morning.”


	59. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q, and he was Q today, decided it was time to perform maintenance on their security network. Whilst he stayed in the cabin and checked the calibration and signals of the 42 CCTV cameras on their land, Alec was in charge of ensuring they were still securely fastened to their trees and other hidden locations and remained clear of any smudges and debris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it past HUMP DAY!!! HUZZAH!!!
> 
> Some weeks, that's as good a reason to cheer as anything. Hopefully, you'll feel the same after reading this update.
> 
> Hugs to you all. Friday is almost here.

It took another three days, but bit by bit, Ellery emerged from his world. He started actively petting Cat when she sat in his lap, responded more readily to Alec’s voice, and started to shower and dress on his own again. But when Alec woke early one morn to find El sat in his cabbage patch in nothing but his pants weeding and chatting with Cat whilst she toyed with a large caterpillar, he knew Ellery was back. 

Though it was the deepest -- and longest -- Q had gone away in months, Alec had managed on his own without needing to call Grace. He put into practise every strategy she had taught him, for both El and for himself. Somewhere in those days, Alec learned to accept he’d probably never know what triggered these episodes and decided the best he could do was ride it out with Ellery and provide for him in the best way he could. They were some of the longest days Alec had had in recent memory -- he would probably always carry the worry -- but he managed. 

Ellery still drifted over the next week but never for long. He was just too busy to go very far. Whilst the garden kept him occupied during the day, El often worked late into the night bug hunting. 

Alec kept an eye on him when he did. He didn’t fully understand what Ellery was doing, but it was clear El’s inner Quartermaster wasn’t gone and still required occupying occasionally as well as keeping his skills honed. But Alec was still Alec, concerned for Ellery’s safety in many different ways, so 006 kept watch. 

On one of Ellery’s more coherent days, they had a roundabout conversation about the bug hunting. Well, Alec played 20 questions and Ellery catted a lot. 

He managed to glean that Ellery had done this kind of work and other specialised projects for a long time under an alias, even whilst employed by Six -- old M had known -- but had dropped out of sight when he became Quartermaster. It paid well.  _ Very  _ well, and Ellery had a large amount of bug ‘bounty’ stashed away in scattered bank accounts for them to use. More importantly, though, El needed this entertainment. 

It had taken more than three hours to even glean that amount of intel from Ellery and made Alec wonder if their life was going to be one constant game of charades. 

Though Alec had helped put together the contracts for each project, he still wasn’t quite sure how Ellery managed to communicate with his customers and other contacts, but he assumed if Ellery needed his help, he would cat at him. 

When Alec came downstairs that Friday morning, he found a fresh pot of coffee already brewed and a red envelope propped up against the bowl of fruit in the centre of the table. He unzipped a banana and took a bite before he opened the envelope, smiling around his mouthful when he saw what was inside: the gift certificate for their dinner Station 440, a farm-to-table restaurant two blocks over from Raven’s Roast.

“Looks like we’re finally going on a date,” Alec said to Cat who had wandered in from outside and hopped up on one of the chairs. “Our boy still out there?” 

She ‘meeped’ in response and set about washing her face which was a tad dusty from the garden. 

Alec chuckled and finished the banana. Filling his mug, he decided to crisp up some sausage rolls he’d made and frozen last week. Now that it required so much of his attention, El and Cat often rose just after the sun and pottered about in the garden until breakfast when he’d come inside in search of a meal and a cuppa. Per usual, Ellery returned from his garden just as breakfast was coming out of the oven. As hard as it was to get food into him when he was ‘away’, when El had two feet in  _ this _ world, the man ate like the hummingbirds that consumed half their body weight in sugar from the nectar in the feeders Grace had hung from eaves of the porch. It seemed he had a sixth sense when food was ready, and no matter where he was on the property, Ellery showed up just when things were being dished up. 

Alec batted Ellery’s hand away when he reached for a sausage roll from the platter. “You’re coated in dirt.” It had rained most of the night, and the only parts of Ellery that weren’t muddy were his right cheek, left shoulder, and what was covered by his boxers (Alec hoped). There were even clumps of it in his hair. “Have a wash. Put on some trousers and a shirt. Then you can eat.”

Ellery frowned and tried again. Again, Alec batted his hand away. Alec leaned over him and said in his ear, “Wash!”

Ellery reappeared a little while later. Jeans, shirt, and barefoot, bath towel in hand. Hair dripping. 

“You’re supposed to dry before you dress.” Alec rolled his eyes at him, grabbing the towel to scrub Ellery’s hair dry. Multiple catted protests issued forth from beneath the towel. Alec couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, so far from the posh Quartermaster on comms at times. 

Alec handed him two cups instructing him to fill them while he filled plates for breakfast. When they were both seated at the table Alec pointed at the envelope on the table. 

“I take it you think it’s time for our long-overdue dinner out.” Ellery shoved half a sausage roll into his mouth, waiting for Alec to continue. “A tad later than what we had originally planned...” Q stared at Alec, blinked, owl-eyed, feeling how Alec was searching for words. 

“I know I’m a tad thicker headed at times. Wasn’t thinking then. Never occurred to me that you were reaching out ...” 

“Cat... Alec... Cat...” Yes, you are idiotic, but...

“Anyway... dinner out it is.” 

Ellery stared at him for a beat before pulling something out of the front pocket of his jeans. He kept it hidden under his palm as he slid it across the table toward Alec. 

“What do you have there?” Alec asked as he followed the progression of Ellery’s hand.

“Cat.” Alec was not expecting the change in Ellery’s voice. The timbre was deeper, husky in a way Alec had never heard before or since his break. Alec looked up from El’s hand and found the tone echoed in his face. He looked … hungry was really the only word for it but not for the sausage rolls on his plate. His eyes assessed Alec where he sat, and the curve to El’s lip said that he liked what he saw. 

Desired it. 

Desired Alec.

Ellery curled his index finger beneath his palm and hooked it into the top of a small packet, extended his finger, and slid a gold-wrapped condom out toward Alec until it pushed up against his side of his hand. Alec stared... hard... realising just what was poking his hand. Then his eyes slowly drifted upwards to meet the serious, needy green eyes that stared back at him. 

“El... I... Ellery....” Rare are the times when a Double-O agent is reduced to stammering, but this was not at all what Alec had expected to occur when he got up this morning to a mud-covered Ellery in the garden. 

“Alec...” Ellery’s voice came as a whisper across the table. 

“Are you.... sure? This is...” Other than that one time months ago, they’d not-- he looked at the condom again, and they’d  _ certainly  _ not-- There had been kissing. Lots and lots of brilliant snogging and sucking each oth- 

“Cat!” The accompanying eye roll told him Ellery thought Alec was being foolish again. Maybe he was. He so wasn’t a sodding virgin and definitely not known for being the inhibited type, but this was --

“Well...” Alec stood from the table attempting to disguise his awkwardness with a refill of his cuppa. “Dinner date tonight then.” Not realising he had left the table, too, Alec felt Ellery press himself against his back, face buried between his shoulder blades. 

“Cat... Alec....” El nibbled and licked at the tender spot behind Alec’s left ear until Alec was groaning and ready to pin Ellery to the counter and snog him senseless. Q slipped the foil packet into Alec’s trouser pocket, obviously for him to save for later, and drew his index finger along the length of Alec’s erection beneath his jeans as he pulled his hand from the pocket. And as quietly as he had appeared at Alec’s back, Ellery slipped away and up the stairs. 

They saw little of one another for the rest of the day. Once he woke up from a short, post-breakfast nap, Q, and he was  _ Q _ today, decided it was time to perform maintenance on their security network. Whilst he stayed in the cabin and checked the calibration and signals of the 42 CCTV cameras on their land, Alec was in charge of ensuring they were still securely fastened to their trees and other hidden locations and remained clear of any smudges and debris. 

As on missions, they communicated via earwig -- real ones now -- but unlike their previous missions for Six, it took a bit more for them to coordinate Alec’s physical adjustments of the hardware with Q’s ‘catted’ instructions. A verbal ‘yes’ and ‘no’ was clearly not an option, and Alec couldn’t see if Q shook his head or not. Again, it was a game of Twenty Questions on Alec’s part -- along with a lot of swearing -- for the first five cameras, but eventually, he learned to ask the  _ right  _ questions and Q the proper inflections in his catting, so the next 37 went much smoother. It took the bulk of the day, but finally, Q called Alec back in, maintenance complete. 

He was hot and sweaty and grimy from climbing pine and aspen trees and digging about beneath shrubs and large rocks. Q, however, was nowhere to be seen. His laptop was shut on the kitchen table with a cold cuppa next to it, but Alec heard him knocking about above stairs. Odd. The shower he heard running came not from their ensuite but from down the hall. Alec shrugged, figuring El had his reasons but stopped short when he entered their bedroom. Hanging on the door to the wardrobe was the dark blue suit he’d bought at Calibre months ago. Behind it hung a freshly pressed fine white cotton button-down and a burgundy silk tie patterned with tiny guns El had purchased online. Below sat a pair of coffee-coloured, dress chukka boots Alec had looked at occasionally on the iPad but had seen no sense in buying given their lifestyle.

“Thoughtful little shite,” he muttered under his breath as he passed into the en suite. He flicked on the shower, stripped out of his filthy clothes, and slipped beneath the hot water, letting it sluice over his body. It was when he was reaching for the shampoo that he realised the reason for Q’s impromptu maintenance session. He’d managed to keep Alec so busy with work that he’d had no opportunity to obsess over their date or what would come afterward. 

Alec showered and dressed, finding himself a tad nervous as he did. This was so out of the norm of what their daily routine had become since coming to Devil’s Gulch. As he pulled on his suit jacket, he realised this was a place he would have never expected himself to end up for any length of time. Let alone with his Quartermaster, and certainly not under these circumstances. 

Leaving their bedroom, he found the cabin exceptionally silent. The upstairs was vacant and yet there were signs of Ellery’s presence scattered around the spare bath. 

“Ellery?” Making his way downstairs, he found him standing next to the kitchen table, the complete opposite of the mud-covered, half-naked urchin from the garden earlier in the day. 

Dressed in black and white plaid pants, white button-down, black waistcoat, and, of course, his black vinyl high tops. Something he had come home with the last time Grace had taken him shopping. Alec had given him shite about them, but they suited him. Q had trimmed up his goatee and even attempted to tame his mop of hair if such a thing was even possible at this point. 

“Cat? Alec?” Ellery questioned seeking Alec’s approval in his own way. He held a tie in his hand for Alec to help him with. 

“You clean up well.” He reached out to tug on a still damp curl that looped around the bottom of El’s right earlobe. “Very well, in fact.” Alec may not have Bond’s sense of style, but he knew a thing or two about ties. Alec popped up the collar of El’s shirt and pulled the length of emerald silk from his hands. Draping it around his neck, Alec set about tying it in a Pratt knot. The full, or even half, Windsor seemed just too traditional for this very nontraditional man. The medium, uneven knot would suit both the man and the outfit far better. 

“I know you know how to do this yourself,” he said as he looped and threaded the fabric around and through itself. “Think you just want me close.”

Ellery slid his hands beneath Alec’s jacket, settling them on his hips, long fingers reaching around to lightly massage the small of his back.

Alec didn’t jump at the touch and didn’t resist when El pulled him just a tad closer. “Need to talk about all that later …:” He settled the knot at the base of El’s collar and folded the leaves of it back into place then pressed a kiss to Ellery’s temple. “... but  _ after  _ dinner.” 

“Cat?” Ellery’s eyes were wide behind his glasses, but he was completely present. Had been all day. He pressed himself to Alec and kissed the hinge of his jaw. Alec returned the embrace and pressed his face into El’s hair for a moment.

“Yes. I promise.” He dipped his head and kissed El deeply. Alec had left the condom Ellery had slipped into his pocket earlier on the sink in the bath. Far from a subtle declaration, there was no doubt what El wanted, but Alec had a few questions that still needed answering. And though it may make Alec seem again like that sodding virgin from the romance novel rather than an intelligence operative who had fucked his way into and out of trouble more times than he could count, this was different. Ellery and he  _ would _ talk before things went any further.


	60. Without Being Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes… this is fine, you little shite.” Alec smirked at him with a lopsided grin. “I know… I know… this was supposed to happen a long time ago. Dinner date got derailed. So let’s make the best of it tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday!! Update time!
> 
> We think you'll like this one.
> 
> P.S. - Don't miss the link at the bottom of the chapter.

Just a few doors down from Grace’s coffee shop, Station 440 had at one point in its history been the local fire station before a new facility had been built. The front of the restaurant still housed the huge, glass, fire bay door which now gave patrons an amazing view of the street and passers-by. Inside, the main dining room still had the old brass fire pole coming down through the ceiling. 

The hostess offered them a table near the huge span of windows, but Alec declined, preferring a table at the back of the room. Still in Double-O mode, he wanted a place where he could see the entire room, his back to a wall, and an exit that was easily navigable. 

Their gift certificate was for the Chef’s Choice, seven-course meal with wine pairings accompanying each course. Alec sighed in relief at not having to “cat” their way through the menu to make choices for Ellery for the evening. 

“Cat?” Ellery had been exceptionally quiet on the drive to the restaurant, well at least in comparison to his focus earlier in the day, and Alec had wondered if Q’s own nerves might have sent him elsewhere for awhile. Now that they were seated together, however, there was no longer any trace of absence in Ellery.

“Yes… this is fine, you little shite.” Alec smirked at him with a lopsided grin. “I know… I know… this was supposed to happen a long time ago. Dinner date got derailed. So let’s make the best of it tonight.”

To his surprise, Ellery took his hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of Alec’s wrist. He closed his eyes a moment and smiled into the flesh, pursed his lips again, and brought their hands together to rest atop the white cloth. 

Alec’s grin grew fond. The things this man made him feel. Emotions he’d never thought he’d feel for another person. Let alone those that someone could make him feel within _himself_. The tenderness in that one gesture was nearly overwhelming. “Shut up,” he grumbled at the knowing look he saw behind Ellery’s glasses. “Here comes Priya.”

But he didn’t let go of El’s hand when Priya Vaughn, the owner and head chef, approached their table. Priya was a transplant from Durham who had come to Colorado to work in the restaurants down in the resorts but quickly found them too pretentious for her working-class background, and so Station 440 was born. Though stylish, it was a place where families as well as couples on a date were welcomed and made comfortable.

“Good evening, Alec. Ellery. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever make use of the certificate.” Priya picked it up from the table. “Was happy to see your names booked in for tonight.” 

“It’s all him,” Alec said with a nod at El. “I’d bloody forgotten about it.” 

“Now why does that not shock me in the least?” She smiled and tucked the card into the front pocket of her apron. “Foster already asked after your wine preferences, but let me explain how Chef’s Choice works. I will create seven dishes based on your tastes and interests as well as my own, all of them influenced by the farm-to-table ingredients available tonight. Each course will be paired with a wine appropriate for those dishes.” Alec liked listening to Priya simply due to her accent. Though it had been largely modulated to what Alec called ‘London Neutral,’ he could still pick up the ghosts of Geordie as she spoke. It was all oddly comforting. A bit of home when they were so far from it.

“Do either of you dislike any particular food or have allergies I should be aware of?”

“I’m not a fan of lamb, but El is allergic to strawberries.” Alec felt the weight of the epi-pen he carried in the inside pocket of his jacket. He never left the cabin without it.

Priya nodded. “Like Grace’s?”

“Could be as serious, yes. Hope never to find out.” 

“Understandable.” Her eyes grew distant for a moment as she thought. “I don’t believe we have any strawberries in the kitchen tonight -- atypical for this time of year -- but I’ll be sure to avoid any cross-contamination if we do. Anything else?”

Alec looked at Ellery who shook his head.

“Then all I ask is you gentlemen enjoy your meal and your night. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask. The Station 440 staff is here to see to your comfort. Your first course will be out shortly.” She smiled and left them, disappearing into the kitchen after a quick word with their server.

Dinner progressed with brilliantly prepared courses and expertly selected wines that both Alec and Ellery were amazed fit so well together. Alec gently monitored Ellery’s alcohol intake to avoid it interfering with his medications while still allowing him to be able to enjoy the wonderful meal pairings. 

Conversation, although one-sided, quickly fell into the pattern of their familiar late-night banter on comms before the Quartermaster’s break. Alec entertained Ellery with stories of the obnoxious things he and James used to do to deliberately anger M -- the old M -- and how they were both once banned from Q Branch for six months by the Major. 

Ellery joined in and catted at Alec as much as he could, filling in bits and pieces to the conversation. Alec was just pleased he could bring a smile to Ellery’s face. 

Time passed quickly and when it finally came to the last course of the evening, neither of them believed they could possibly eat another bite but weren’t willing to pass up the dessert either. 

Alec’s tip was generous and as he ushered Ellery through the door of the restaurant, he subtly reached his other hand beneath his jacket to undo the buttons on his trousers. God, he was so full.

“Cat?” Ellery asked when they were side by side on the pavement. He looked at their Explorer in its diagonal spot in front of the restaurant and then around Alec’s body toward the rest of Main Street and the many people still about. 

“Want to go for a walk, then?”

Ellery linked his arm with Alec’s in answer.

Though it was past nine and most of the shops were closed, there was clearly still enough going on to entertain on a beautiful summer night. 

People were queued up at the single-screen cinema waiting for the doors to open for the late showing of that _Spiderman: Homecoming_ movie Bob was so excited about. Others popped in and out of Cardozo’s Creamery with ice cream on cones and in dishes. 

Alec asked Ellery if he wanted something, and El looked at him like he’d grown a second head. His “Cat!” was a clear ‘are you out of your fucking mind?!’ and Alec barked with laughter when El pulled back his waistcoat to reveal his own unbuttoned trousers.

They said ‘hello’ to and were greeted in return by people they knew. The small town quaintness should have been appallingly saccharine to Alec’s not-so-inner jaded wanker, but it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t perfect. Devil’s Gulch had its own problems, but it had become home and it mattered, to both of them. 

Their wanderings eventually brought them to Centennial Park and the Mountain League baseball game being played under the lights. 

Bloody brilliant!

Alec had fallen in love with baseball early in his SIS career when he’d been sent on a deep cover assignment to New York City. Whilst that mission was the source of his long-standing distaste for the States as a whole, the one shining positive had been discovering baseball. He’d caught as many Yankees and Mets games in person as it had been safe for him to do and watched the rest on television that year. And though the Colorado Rockies were proving to be only an average team, Alec had adopted them as his own at the start of this season and had been trying to explain his love of the game and how it was played to Ellery each night when they watched on the telly. Ellery wasn’t always fully present for them, but when he was he would cat his questions and Alec would do his best to explain. There had been fewer questions in the last weeks which meant either Ellery was catching on or simply humouring him. 

“Come on! Let’s watch the game!” Alec untwined their arms and grabbed El’s hand, practically dragging him across the grass to the metal stands where they could watch for a tad. They sat for the final three innings, and though the Devil’s Gulch Demons lost 7-6 on a pop fly to left centre with two people on base, it was a good game, and Alec picked up a schedule for future ones as they left.

They didn’t get far, only to the edge of the pool of the field’s lights before Ellery tugged Alec behind a tree, pressed him up against the trunk, and started kissing him. Alec pulled him up flush to his body with one hand, raising Ellery to his tiptoes, the other he slid into El’s curls as they ravaged each other’s mouths.

Ellery pushed into the kiss, pressing himself against Alec, arms wrapping around Alec’s waist under his suit jacket. 

Alec sighed, being the first to pull away from their moment, hand moving from gripping Ellery’s curls to cupping his jawline. “Q... Ellery. As much as I really want to continue this, we need... “

“Cat. Alec?”

“I know. We need to talk. I promised you we would.” There were times Ellery’s lack of words fucking frustrated him. This was one of them. Possibly ranking in the top two or three on his ‘no words moments’ list. 

Ellery tried to push back in for another kiss but Alec gently held him back. 

“El, let me talk. Please.” Alec gently tapped his fingers against his cheek, a gesture he used often to make sure he had Ellery’s full attention. “I know I’m a tad thick at times in understanding what you’re trying to tell me.”

“Cat.” Ellery huffed at him, agreeing that his assessment was definitely an understatement. 

“We spent a lot of time chatting each other up on comms. Getting to know one another. And before we could get any further, things took an ugly turn.” Ellery tried to pull away from him, and Alec realised he had completely said the wrong thing. 

“Ellery, no. Stop.” Ellery squirmed in his grasp, but Alec held on tight, not letting him move away. “That’s in the _past_. Done and over. But that’s the point. Not the past, the future. I need to talk with you about where we go from here and how it affects us.”

Ellery continued to twist about until Alec practically shouted, “Stop El!” Which brought an end to the squirming but not to the very defiant glare.

“Listen you little shite, I know how _I_ feel, but for both our sakes, I need to know somehow where your head … your heart is, too.” Alec sighed knowing he probably wasn’t conveying what he needed to say well at all. The constant one-sided conversations and twenty questions game were a bloody pain in the arse. 

“You have to admit the days you go elsewhere are a bit bloody confusing at times.” Ellery smacked him hard on the chest, glaring at him. 

Alec ran his hand through his hair. “No. Of _course_ , I don’t blame you for that. I see how hard you struggle to stay here. In this world. But … if you could? If you were able … would you _want_ to stay here all the time?” His voice grew quiet. Hesitant. Barely a whisper between them. “With _me_?”

The angry line of Ellery’s jaw softened. His eyes grew fond and a bit sad. “Alec.” He wrapped his arms around him again, rested his head against Alec’s chest, and just held on. “Cat …” 

_Of course, I would._

Alec returned the embrace. Holding Ellery just as close. When he spoke, it was into El’s hair. Things that needed saying but things he knew he couldn’t say whilst looking Ellery in the eye. El meant so much, too much, and Alec was sure he would break under that clear, green gaze.

“I worry--” He cleared his throat of the words that stuck there. “Worry I’m taking advantage of you because you’re _not_ always here, and I can’t do that to you … or to me. I need a clear sign you understand what it is you want from me. Want _with_ me. I’ll never leave you. Never give you up. You’re it for me. All I want. But if we’re going to do anything more, _be_ anything more ... I need to know.”

“Alec...” Ellery’s voice was shaky. 

“I know we talked about so many things in that time before,” Alec hesitated not really knowing what to say. He couldn’t really say ‘before you had a mental break and tried to off yourself,’ but he needed Ellery to understand that what happened to him that night in Q-Branch _had_ changed things, and Alec didn’t want him to misinterpret and think he thought Ellery was in any way broken or incompetent. 

“Are you still here when you drift away, El? Still with me at all?”

Ellery pulled back from him. Stepped away. Paced back and forth before stopping with his back to Alec staring off into the darkness. 

“Ellery?” 

He turned back towards Alec, obviously struggling inwardly. Alec could see the frustration on his face as he searched and pushed himself for words. “Cat. Cat!”

“It’s alright El. I didn’t mean...” 

But he stepped back to Alec, placing a hand on Alec’s chest searching for his heartbeat.

“Alec....” he whispered. Alec watched El closely. It was as if he could practically see the gears turning in El’s brilliant but mixed up head as he struggled to push the words out. He mouthed them silently as lips and tongue tried to remember how to form the words he clearly felt he needed.

“W..w.. with... out... b..be..ing... t..t..told.”

Alec looked down at him, puzzled, trying to piece together what Ellery was trying to tell him in his own mishmash way. He really didn’t want to play twenty questions with this. 

“Without being told? Is that... What? I don’t understand El! Not at all.” Alec cupped his face rubbing a thumb on his cheekbone. 

Ellery huffed at him in frustration, catting under his breath as he began patting Alec down, shoving hands into his pockets until he finally came up with Alec’s mobile. 

“What are you doing?” Ellery entered the code they had agreed upon months ago in case El ever needed to use it in an emergency, grumbling cats as he searched through the pages and pages of apps -- “I do not play too many games!” Alec groused -- until he found iTunes buried at the back. He scrolled through the playlists until he found what he was looking for, one entitled “Q’s Tunes.” 

Q had shared the list with him a few weeks before Alec was scheduled to return to London when desperation had started to settle in for the Double-O. Alec had been so long on assignment that he was in need of any new experience he could get -- new books to read, new songs to listen to -- and that playlist had more than met his needs. Q’s music preferences were as unique and eclectic as the man himself ranging from Adele to Kanye West, Lorde to Peter Brown, Muse to Adam Lambert. 

Ellery quickly found the song he was searching for. He pressed play on the fourth song on the list and turned up the volume as a woman’s voice began to sing.

Alec recognised it. A particularly unique song within the expansive selection. Romantic. Searching. A series of incompatible relationships. Seeking out the one who was meant to be. Could they already be in their life? In disguise? 

It was in the chorus, however, that Ellery’s words -- words he had dug deep to articulate -- sounded sorrowfully, searchingly in the air between them:  
  


_Who doesn't long for someone to hold_

_Who knows how to love you without being told_

_Somebody tell me why I'm on my own_

_If there's a soulmate for everyone_

And Alec finally understood. Everything. 

Suddenly he wasn’t afraid of Ellery’s eyes. He looked directly into them as he spoke. “You believe I know how to love you even without being told.”

El nodded. 

“You’re not longing for someone to hold you anymore because … you have _me_?”

Ellery’s smile was blinding. “Alec. Mine. S...s…soulll ... mm…mate.”

Alec didn’t stop kissing El for a very long time. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


[“Soulmate”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P27MPi3ZhCg) by Natasha Bedingfield  
  
  
  
  
And the menu ...  
  
  
  
  
  



	61. London Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m calling about the Quartermaster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Monday ... again ... hopefully, this chapter will add some spice to an otherwise dreaded day.
> 
> I've not said this to Boffin yet, but in looking at all those tracking numbers at the top of the page, I can't help but wonder which we will hit first, 20k hits or 1000 comments. I can, however, speak for both of us when I say we *never* anticipated either as a possibility. We owe it to you, our brilliant and devoted readers for getting us here. It doesn't matter if you have been with us since we first started posting in April or have just found this tale recently, we are so grateful for every last one of you.
> 
> And now for the update ... 
> 
> Oh, and don't miss the new recipe at the bottom of the chapter. Grace has been experimenting again.

Grace glanced at the clock, noting that Alec and Ellery should likely be home by now from their dinner date. She’d helped Ellery make the reservation at Station 440 and crossed her fingers and said a quick prayer that it went well. For two highly intelligent men, they were pure idiots at times. 

Though quite late by most people’s standards, for her it was early. She’d decided to get a jump on her baking and was just finishing the next day’s specials, about to prep for the daily offerings, when her cell phone rang. Not looking at the caller ID, she just answered it. Aunt Miriam sometimes woke during the night and called to check on her before rolling back over to sleep. Grace was looking forward to telling her about the Dark Chocolate Zucchini Bundt Cake with Amaretto Fudge Glaze she’d made for her Saturday morning brunch with The Ladies, but instead of her aunt, Grace was greeted by a voice she never expected to hear again. 

“Doctor. It’s Eve Moneypenny. Please don’t hang up on me.” Grace was tempted,  _ extremely  _ tempted, to do just that but knew if Moneypenny wanted to speak with her, she would likely find a way. Best to get the call over with now and be done with it. 

“What do you want Ms. Moneypenny?” Grace struggled to keep her anger from creeping to the surface. The memories of the last call Alec had made to MI6 that sent Ellery into a tailspin were all too fresh in her mind. 

“I’m calling about the Quartermaster.”

“Obviously, but I don’t have anything to tell you. I am no longer treating him which I’m going to assume you already know as I’ve not had any further requests for psychological updates.”

Moneypenny sighed, “Yes. We spoke with Trevelyan.”

“Quit stalling Eve! How was he the last time you saw him, Doctor? How was he  _ really _ ? We can’t get a straight answer from any of these bloody, self-righteous morons here,” said another woman in the background. 

Shocked at the sound of a second voice, Grace dropped the last gingernut cookie she’d been transferring to the cooling sheet. “You’re not alone! What are you trying to pull, Moneypenny?” Thinking they were talking privately, Grace had not affected the Farsi accent she had used to help conceal Alec and Ellery’s location. Oh, this was not good. Not good at all. 

“No, I’m not alone, Doctor,” Grace noted that Moneypenny seemed to be intentionally avoiding the use of her name, still protecting Ellery and Alec in that way, at least, “and I have you on speakerphone at the moment. With me is another Double-O agent, and you know the Quartermaster’s second in command, R. We are all just terribly concerned about Q.”

Grace threw her spatula into the sink and hoped like hell the clang of metal on metal split their ears all the way in London. “You’re concerned about your Quartermaster? Where was your concern a year ago when he was starting to spiral out of control due to overwork? When even the tiniest bit of concern, or oversight, would have likely prevented the man from nearly killing himself and slipping into a series of absence states from which he may never fully recover? You’ll forgive me if I find your  _ concern _ for the Quartermaster’s well-being just a bit too little and far too late.”

Her rebuke was met with silence on the other end of the line. Good. 

Bloody cows! 

That the curse in her head spoke using Alec Trevelyan’s voice should have worried her more than it did.

Then. “You’re right, of course. We failed him. Utterly.”

It was the voice of the third woman, the one Grace hadn’t interacted with before. The Double-O. “Your name, please.”

“Double-O Four.”

“I asked for your  _ name.  _ Not your designation.”

“She’s vetted,” Moneypenny said but not to Grace.

A beat. “Scarlett. Scarlett Papava.”

“Well, Agent Papava, you’re damn right you failed him.” Grace toggled the speaker on her phone, set it on the work table, and leaned over it. She stared into the dark screen like she could see the others through it, though only her own incensed reflection looked back. “I want to know why.”

It was R who replied. “Because Q did what he always does. He took care of us first. He was so good at looking out for us that we failed to look out for him.”

“You’re deflecting as well as placing the blame on the victim. Truly, what excellent friends he has.” Grace couldn’t even pretend to be impartial anymore. She was too angry and cared about Ellery too much. “There’s nothing I can do for him any more in any event. You and M made sure of that. Drove Trevelyan away to protect Q from Mallory’s crazed obsession. Something you might want to look into, by the way. Any number of mental illnesses that would account for it, but I’m not going to be the one to diagnose the man. Or, perhaps, is this the way MI6 normally treats its people? In any event, I think we’re done here.” She reached to disconnect the call.

“No! Wait! Please!” Papava again.

“What? Another excuse for your behavior and treatment of your so-called friend?” Grace snapped. 

“No excuses, but hear me out,” Scarlett demanded. 

“I don’t think you are in any position to make demands of me, Agent Papava.”

“You‘re right, Doctor,” Scarlett sighed, backpedaling. “My apologies. It’s my concern for both Trevelyan and the Quartermaster at the moment that is pushing me. If you have any contact at all with them, even the slightest chance, I need to get a message to Trevelyan. “

“Your Mallory took that option away.”

“I know. But if they do contact you, please urge Trevelyan not to cut off contact with MI6 completely. The Quartermaster needs to appear to still be in charge of Q-Branch.” There was a murmur of a voice in the background. 

“You know I’m right, R!” Grace could hear the tension in Papava’s voice. “Doctor, If the outside world figures out that the Quartermaster is no longer in charge, and they eventually will, it wouldn’t just be Mallory hunting for him. Q is a hot commodity. Others will want him. Trevelyan isn’t going to be enough to protect him if someone comes looking and finds them.”

“Doctor...” this time it was Moneypenny’s voice once more. “We only want to help. Please pass the word along to Alec if you hear from them. Let him know we are here. To call on us.”

“Tell him I owe him and the Quartermaster a hundred times over. It’s time for me to repay my debts.” Papava added. “He knows how to reach me. Tell him I’ll come. Wherever he is. I’ll come.”

“I sincerely doubt I’ll ever see or hear from them again. You’ve had your say. We’re done here.” Grace disconnected the call, but she doubted this was the last call she would get from the trio of women. 

Conflicted and frustrated by the conversation, Grace knew she needed to calm down. She poured herself two fingers of the whisky she kept on hand for her double chocolate whisky cake and wandered out into the coffee shop, quiet and dark, and sat in Ellery’s seat but looked out the window at the silent, sleeping street. 

She downed half the whisky in a mouthful, letting its burn center her, then sipped at the rest. What a complete clusterfuck. Of course, she’d share what Papava had said with Alec. It reinforced everything he had told her about the danger Ellery would be in if forces outside of the SIS came looking for him. 

And despite everyone’s efforts to keep Ellery safe and secure, Grace had a sinking feeling that it was all just a matter of time.

  
  


[ Dark Chocolate Zucchini Bundt Cake with Amaretto Fudge Glaze ](https://ohsweetbasil.com/moist-zucchini-dark-chocolate-bundt-cake-recipe/)


	62. Houdini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though no less passionate, their kisses were gentle as they entered the cabin. Granted, Alec had to kick the door shut behind them as one hand was too occupied with unbuttoning El’s waistcoat and shirt whilst the other tangled in his dark hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! We pass the 100k word mark with this update! Amazing! Though, not really. Boffin and I accept the fact that whether we write with a partner or on our own, neither of us really knows how to write anything short.
> 
> We expect this update will generate some ... reactions ...
> 
> Enjoy!

Out of necessity, Alec and Ellery managed to calm things down for the drive home. What had started out with tongue and teeth and tight, needy grasps in the shelter of the tree in the park had eased to hand-holding and fingertip kisses and fond caresses in the dark cab of the Explorer. It had been sappy and sentimental and mushy and saccharine and more appropriate for naive teenagers than for two, grown men who in a previous life had been, in essence, government-sanctioned serial killers. 

It was oddly perfect. 

Though no less passionate, their kisses were gentle as they entered the cabin. Granted, Alec had to kick the door shut behind them as one hand was too occupied with unbuttoning El’s waistcoat and shirt whilst the other tangled in his dark hair. Call it a fetish or a compulsion or an obsession, but Alec so loved the feel of Ellery’s hair against his skin. And based on the way El moaned into Alec’s mouth and ground against his thigh when he tugged on those curls, Ellery was quite fond of it, too. 

Alec pulled back when things started getting heated again, fingers skimming the tender skin of El’s ribcage as he did. He grinned, possessiveness welling up in him, at how Ellery shivered in spite of his growl that Alec was stepping away. 

“Mine!” he protested. Alec only just managed to avoid El’s grasping hands.

“Yours. And you’re  _ mine _ , but we’ve things to do.” Alec backed away as Ellery stalked him through the sitting room, green gaze intense and focussed. “You’ve meds to take and Cat to feed, and I’ve a security log to review and the slow cooker to start so we have breakfast tomorrow.”

Ellery growled again, annoyed and unimpressed with Alec’s responsibility when there was sex to be had, and he pressed against Alec when he accidentally backed himself against the sofa. 

“You know I’m right,” Alec said against Ellery’s mouth when he was allowed to breathe again. “Cause if we both get what we want tonight, we won’t have the strength to leave our bed til afternoon tomorrow.”

That captured Ellery’s attention. A curious eyebrow disappeared beneath his finger-mussed fringe. “Cat?” Oh? Tell me more!

“Let’s just say, I know that wasn’t the only condom in the bottom of my shower kit,” Alec whispered against El’s ear. “Plan to use as many of them as we can until neither of us can keep it up anymore.”

Alec’s laughter followed Ellery as he dashed up the stairs in search of Cat, stripping off his unbuttoned waistcoat and shirt as he went. 

Grabbing his tablet, Alec pulled up the recorded feed from the security cameras about the perimeter and reviewed it as he started to pull things out of the refrigerator for breakfast in the morning. He heard Ellery upstairs catting and chittering, searching for Cat to make sure the Queen of the cabin was fed for the night.

It wasn’t long before Alec heard him heading back down the stairs still calling for Cat, searching the downstairs, room to room, and in all Cat’s special hiding places.

“Cat?” Ellery appeared at the kitchen door. He was clad in only a pair of low slung pyjama pants. “Cat?”

“Haven’t seen her down here,” Alec offered, glancing back over his shoulder with an appreciative look for the dimples above Ellery’s arse he could see above the waistband. He plugged in the slow cooker. “She playing games with you tonight?” Ellery sighed in frustration, muttering cats as he opened the door to the kitchen pantry thinking she may have got shut in there. 

“Have you tried the linen cupboard upstairs? You know how she loves to get her fur all over the clean towels.”

“Cat!”

“Alright, alright. I get it. You already checked. Let me finish here, and I’ll help you find her. The Queen obviously wants all the attention herself tonight.” Alec grabbed El’s elbow as he wandered by, stopping him long enough to place a kiss to the top of his head. “Go on… I’ll be right there.”

Ninety minutes later, the atmosphere in the cabin was as far from sexually-charged, loving, and romantic as it could possibly be. They’d searched the cabin again, top to bottom. Looked inside every cupboard, under every bed, shaking bags and checking every container Cat could possibly fit herself into. Next, they went to the barn, followed the same protocol, even lifting the bonnets of the ATV and the snowmobile to see if she was there. No joy. Alec then grabbed his rifle and a torch and walked the perimetre of the property calling out for the feline demon, Ellery’s own shouts of “Cat!” echoing to him in the darkness as the boffin searched his garden for his precious companion. 

But Cat was nowhere to be found.

Ellery was frantic when Alec returned.

He’d pulled everything from the closets and from the lower cupboards in the kitchen in a third, futile, search. The sitting room looked like it had been ravaged by a tornado, even the sofa sat askew from its normal spot. Alec reasoned the upstairs was in a similar condition. It was going to take forever to set things to rights, but he had other things to worry about.

Ellery. He paced through the sitting room, tearing at his hair. Tears dripped down his face, every utterance of Cat’s name punctuated by a hiccup as he tried not to sob. 

He was about to fly apart.

Securing his rifle, Alec grabbed Ellery by the shoulders on his next pass and pulled him close. El struggled a moment before latching on, clinging to Alec in his fear. 

Here, in Devil’s Gulch, if Alec Trevelyan was Ellery’s protector, guardian, and about to become his lover and partner, then Cat was El’s best friend. And if something happened to Cat, Alec wasn’t sure how Ellery was going to handle it emotionally.

Ellery suddenly pulled away from him and dashed out the door clad only in his pyjama pants and bare feet. 

“El…. Ellery! Wait!” But he was long gone out the door, into the dark, before Alec could make another grab for him. Alec caught a glimpse of him rounding the barn, heading towards the garden.

By the time Alec reached him, Ellery was standing deep in the middle of the garden, staring off into the darkness. His shoulders shook from the hiccupping sobs that flowed from him. Alec reached out to gently lay a hand on his shoulder.

“El…” Alec carefully turned him around, finding exactly what he feared he might. Unfocused eyes, unable to look back at him.

“Fuck! No, Ellery!” Alec tipped El’s face upward so moonlight shone on it, giving him nowhere to look but at Alec. “You have to stay here. With  _ me _ . Now! Cat needs you. We’re not out of options.” He scrambled to think of what they were. “The … the neighbours. I’ll call the neighbours. Maybe someone has seen her. But you … I need … I need  _ you _ to finish looking at the security logs. The CCTV footage. She’s bound to be on one of the cameras. You’re better at it than I am. I see the big things, but you know how to look for the small. The things most people would miss.”

Ellery’s face twitched and trembled, his eyes fluttered behind closed lids as he fought whatever force it was that always pulled him away.

“You can do this, El.”

His breathing sped up until he was almost panting, and soft whimpers sounded on every exhalation. Ellery’s pulse thumped rapidly beneath Alec’s fingers around his wrist. It was like watching someone fight off possession by a demon in a horror movie except that this was quite real. 

“Stay with me. Help me find our girl. I need  _ you _ for this mission, Quartermaster.”

Ellery fell to his knees in the middle of his garden, tipped his head back, and screamed into the night. It was long and primal and torturous. Filled with anger and pain and fear that had roots far deeper than that of a missing cat, no matter how precious she was to him. When the echo of it finally died, Ellery opened his eyes and looked at Alec who knelt at his side. Though rimmed with red, they were again clear. Focussed. 

“Alec?” Ellery’s voice was raw. Exhausted.

“I knew you could do it!” Alec squeezed El so tightly he grunted and squirmed. “I knew you could stay.”

“Cat …” The mumbled agreement sounded skeptical, but Alec kissed Ellery’s hair and got them both to their feet, gripping El by the elbow when his legs threatened to give out again. “Come on. We’ve got a Furball from Hell to find.”

Alec led him slowly to the house. Once inside, he sat Ellery at the table with his tablet, security footage already pulled up on it. 

“Here. Look through the recordings. See if you find her.” Ellery glanced up, and Alec could tell he was still fighting to stay in the here and now. “You can do this Quartermaster. Mission: Find Cat.”

Alec left him at the table and grabbed a hoodie for him to bundle up in. Then he started working on a cuppa for both of them. 

Ellery began to slowly scroll through the footage, scouring it for any little glimpse of Cat. Whilst his focus was shaky at best, he seemed to be managing. Alec took advantage of it and stepped out of the porch, leaving the door open so he could keep an eye on Ellery. Pulling out his mobile, he quickly dialed Grace. It went straight to voicemail. 

“Cat’s made her escape. Can’t find her anywhere. Ellery is freaked. May need back up later. Just wanted you to know. Will call if we need.” He then called their nearest neighbours who hadn’t seen Cat but promised to keep a look out for her.

Alec came back inside and had just finished getting their cuppas ready when Ellery gasped. 

“Cat! Cat! Alec! Cat!” Pointing frantically at the screen, he demanded Alec come see. And sure enough, just as Alec had said to him earlier, it was a little thing. Something he would have easily overlooked. There in the picture frozen on the screen, at the far right lower corner was the evidence... Cat’s tail. Rounding the corner of the back porch. 

The bloody beast was out on tour. 

“Little bitch. Made her escape and is out flouncing around.” Alec scoffed. Both of them quickly made their way to the back door to find that the embedded cat door was unlocked. 

“I know that was locked! Checked it myself before we left. If she’s learned how to open the locked door, we’re doomed.” Alec sighed. 

“Cat... Cat...”

“El... we’ll leave it open for the night. Nothing more we can do. Not tonight.” Ellery started to protest but Alec stopped him. 

“She’s smart as a whip and can take care of herself.” Alec reminded Ellery of the condition they had found her in all those months ago, and the vet’s belief that Cat had been set upon by a wild animal and managed to defend herself. She’d been a scrappy thing, even then. “She’ll come back. She knows where she has it good.” But Alec knew he wasn’t going to be too successful convincing Ellery of any of it until Cat was actually back in the house. Cat was on her own for the night. His concern was Ellery. Keeping him from not drifting too far away in his head. 

He didn’t even want to consider what would happen if Cat didn’t come home. 

Alec guided Ellery up the stairs. “Come on, love. Let’s get some rest so we can start the hunt again in the daylight.” 


	63. Another Long Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding Cat's bloodied remains, if there would be any, would devastate Ellery, and Alec didn’t want to think about what would happen then.
> 
> So, of course, that was all he could think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just when you think sexy times are around the corner, Alec and Ellery get cockblocked by a Siamese! LOL Typical of their lives, it seems.
> 
> We need to make you aware of a slight change in our programming. We will post updates today (Thursday) and Friday to get as many posts in for 007Fest as possible. After that, however, we are going to have to drop down to two updates a week for a bit. We SO hate to do this, but it's necessary, and here's why. 
> 
> I will be going back to teaching in a few weeks and the reality is, well, teaching and learning, none of it looks like it did five months ago. There is going to be a significant learning curve for me for a while, and it's imperative that I do the best I can for my high schoolers. 
> 
> Consequently, I don't know what my writing schedule with Boffin is going to look like because of that. He's been buried under work, too, and while we have managed to cobble out a few new chapters during the COVID quarantine, we've not had the opportunity to write quite like we did pre-COVID. Everything we have posted so far has been written for quite some time, and we still have *plenty* in reserve. However, dropping down to two chapters a week for a bit will ensure that we don't run out for a long time and give us the chance to get back in the writing game once I figure out this Brave New World of Education.
> 
> Our new posting days will be Tuesday and Friday. We hope you understand and stick with us even though the chapters won't be coming quite as quickly as they have been. 
> 
> In the meantime, here's Thursday's update. Enjoy!

The night after Q tried to kill himself in his Branch. 

The three nights after the first time Alec found Ellery nearly frozen on the front porch of the cabin. 

Those that came during a Six Coma. 

The night after El ran to the lake when he’d been so afraid Six was coming for him. 

There had been many sleepless nights for Alec since becoming a part of Q’s/Ellery’s life. Nights where he’d sat at his bedside, fearing for El’s well-being in so many ways. 

This was one of the rougher ones because Alec worried about _more_ than just Ellery. Battered and bloodied, claws torn down to the quick, Cat had been in a pretty serious scrap the night El and he had found her in the barn, howling her fool head off like she knew her chosen human was on the other side of the door. The veterinarian hadn’t been able to determine what Cat had fought off, but the mountains were filled with predators: wolves, coyotes, bears, mountain lions, and more. Cat, though feisty and strong, was a bite-sized snack to any of them. Finding her bloodied remains, if there would be any, would devastate Ellery, and Alec didn’t want to think about what would happen then.

So, of course, that was all he  _ could _ think about. 

Ellery tossed and turned in their bed just as much. He made a noble effort to sleep, but it just wouldn’t come. Given his own thoughts, Alec could only imagine what was going through El’s mind. He’d cling to Alec and then moments later roll away only to return to Alec’s embrace. And though his eyes remained clear, and he stayed present, Ellery bore it all in silence.

And that worried Alec most of all.

When Ellery rolled away yet again, Alec climbed out of bed and rummaged around in the cupboard above the sink in the en suite until he found what he was looking for. He squinted at the fine print on the bottle, struggling to make it out -- he’d worry about  _ that _ unpleasant development another day -- then shook a pill into his hand. He filled a glass with water and returned to bed, sitting on the edge next to El who stared out the window into the darkness. 

“Grace prescribed this for you.” He unclured his hand and showed Ellery the small white pill. “Sleep’s not often a problem for you, but she thought they might be needed occasionally. Will you take it? So you can get some rest and be as strong as possible to search for Cat in the morning?”

Ellery propped himself up on an elbow and looked at the pill and then Alec questioningly. 

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it might help,” Alec confirmed.

That was all Ellery needed to know, apparently. He popped the pill into his mouth and chased it with the entire glass of water. Alec sat the glass on the bedside table, kissed El’s forehead, and then his lips. A lingering kiss designed to comfort. For his own part, Alec felt a tad better when they parted. He climbed over El and back into bed, sliding in behind and pulling him into his arms.

It took another 30 minutes or so of tossing and turning but, eventually, Ellery found sleep. It was Alec’s turn to lie awake or just barely dosing for the remainder of the night, watching over Ellery and listening for any sound of Cat having made her return to the cabin. He would definitely be giving her a piece of his mind when she appeared for having scared Ellery so much. 

Alec woke with a start, one hand reaching for the gun in the holster under the table on his of the bed. He lay still listening, but the cabin was silent around them. Ellery was pushed up against him, back to his chest, still asleep. Snoring lightly and resting. It had definitely been a good idea to give him the medication Grace has prescribed.

Ellery murmured in his sleep, turning over to throw an arm over Alec’s chest, snuggling his head on his shoulder for a pillow. Eventually, a leg made its way over Alec also. If Ellery was still going to sleep, then he would try, too. No sense passing up the opportunity to curl up with El while he was resting peacefully. 

Alec woke next to the buzz of his mobile on the bedside table. He slapped out a hand blindly and pulled it to him, grimacing at the time. They’d slept far later than planned, and he’d missed three separate texts from Grace asking for an update, this one said she was about to head out to the cabin to help search if she didn’t hear from them otherwise. He used his thumb to tap out a quick message whilst keeping his other arm coiled around Ellery who still slept curled at his side. He told Grace to hang tight until they had a chance to figure out where things stood.

He dropped the phone onto the mattress when he was done and rolled over, tossing his leg over Ellery’s and wrapping himself around him like an octopus. He wanted to wake El slowly, in comfort and security. Ease his mind into remembering that Cat was missing. 

Alec nuzzled Ellery’s brow, dropped kisses to his hair and his temples until he started to stir. Before he fully woke, Alec pressed his lips to each of El’s eyes, his cheeks and nose, and the tip of his chin. When sleep-drugged green eyes opened and a lopsided smile started to form, Alec caught Ellery’s lips in a lingering, patient, thorough kiss.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile when they parted, pushing aside curls from his forehead. El was due for another haircut. So was he for that matter.

Ellery had wound his fingers into Alec’s shaggy hair and was more interested in pulling him back in for a kiss and possibly more given the way he pressed his groin into Alec’s thigh. “Cat,” he said in a needy murmur against Alec’s mouth, but he froze before pressing any further. Alec felt him tense in his arms, the word a trigger for El’s memory. 

Within a heartbeat, Ellery was squirming out from under Alec, tossing off the duvet, and rolling out of the bed. One would never know that Alec had medicated him to sleep the night before for Ellery was out of bed and dashing down the stairs to begin the search for Cat once more, pulling up his sagging pyjama pants as he went. 

“Wait for me! You’ve patience the size of a mouse!” Alec called after him. “You’re going to fall on the stairs and break your neck. Then you’ll have to go to hospital and we’ll never find Cat then!” Alec clambered out of bed and dashed after Ellery. 

Just as he hit the first steps, Alec heard Ellery’s shout of “CAT!” from downstairs in a tone he couldn’t quite decipher. Fearing the worst and already formulating a game plan in his head, Alec scrambled down the stairs and into the lounge. 

There he found Ellery knelt on the sofa with Cat ensconced like the Queen on her favourite spot on the back of it, preening, as Ellery catted away at her in tones ranging between scolding and so bloody ecstatic that she was home. 

When Alec approached, Cat looked up at him with a clearly ‘pleased with herself’ look on her face, and he knew  _ exactly  _ what that look meant. 

“Oh, you little bitch!”


	64. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d forgotten. Forgotten how hot and soft and wet El’s mouth was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful support and understanding of our need to ease off on how often we post updates. We really have the *best* readers! 🥰
> 
> Here's the Friday update ... we think (hope) you'll be pleased with it.
> 
> Do let us know. 💕

“Oh, you little bitch!”

Ellery looked up from his cooing and scolding, startled by the angry accusation. Alec stood with his hands on his hips, staring at Cat with a completely disgusted look on his face. 

“Cat?” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you can’t see what happened?” Alec pointed an accusatory finger at Cat. “She got laid last night!”

El looked from Cat to Alec and back again and shook his head. “Alec? Cat.”  
  
Not _my_ girl!

“Figured out the bloody latch on the cat door, broke out of here, and went on the prowl. Look at her! Pleased as punch she is. Completely sated!” Cat had pulled away from El in the distraction and resumed cleaning herself, hind leg in the air, completely disinterested in the conversation about her. “Set you into a panic and had us running all over the fucking place in the dark, just so she could get a leg over!”

Then the greater significance of it hit him. “Fuck me!” Alec groaned, smacking his palm against his forehead. “Should’ve listened to Bob and taken her in to be spayed when he suggested it. Just you see! Couple of months from now we’re going to be ankle-deep in kittens!”

Alec’s accusations had Ellery looking at his pet through entirely different eyes, and he indignantly chastised his feline companion, pointing a finger at her in a ‘how dare you’ exclamation. “Cat!” Ellery promptly stomped over and locked the cat door, turning back to Cat, pointing a finger at her again and catting repeatedly. 

And then he stopped. Stood straight. And with a raised eyebrow, turned back to Alec.

“Alec...” El slowly made his way across the room, turning to once more to quickly point a finger at Cat, and came to a stop directly in front of him. 

“Alec?” Ellery questioned, a small smile curling on his lips, he laid a hand on Alec’s chest.

“Oh, so now that Cat is home, you’ve remembered where we were before that feline terror interrupted us?” Alec chuckled wrapping an arm around Ellery’s waist, pulling him in closer. 

“Mine!” 

Ellery did not stand on ceremony. He knew what he wanted. He slipped his hands beneath the waistband of Alec’s sleep trousers and cupped and squeezed his arse a moment before sliding the pyjamas to the floor. El followed them to the ground, his keyboard-calloused fingertips gliding across the back of Alec’s legs. Alec inhaled sharply, surprised at how sensitive that patch skin was, but he was left gasping a moment later when Ellery started sucking on the tip of his cock.

“Oh, Christ!” He’d forgotten. Forgotten how hot and soft and wet El’s mouth was. They’d been intimate only once, months ago. And whilst they’d both been okay with what happened, they’d somehow come to a tacit understanding and agreement that it had been too soon. The question Ellery had finally been able to answer last night weighing on them, even then. Other than snogging and caresses and snuggling close together on the sofa or in bed, they hadn’t ventured down that path again.

Until now.

Wickedness stared up at Alec through Ellery’s green eyes as he dipped the tip of his tongue beneath Alec’s foreskin, swirling around and caressing the sensitive tip once then twice before withdrawing only to suck him down whole. 

“Ellery …” Alec felt himself grow hard in the heat of El’s mouth. He gripped his shoulders a moment to catch his balance before sliding them up El’s neck. Alec cupped his head in his hands, fingers tangling in the curls he loved so much. El twined his arms around Alec to rest his hands at the small of his back, urging the slight thrust of his hips until Alec was slowly, carefully fucking El’s mouth.

Alec was entranced. The look in Ellery’s eyes as he stared up at him. The sight of his cock glistening with saliva as it slid in and out Ellery’s mouth, deep enough to be a challenge but not so far as to damage. The vibrations the grunts and hums of El’s pleasure against his skin set a thrumming through Alec’s entire body.

He could have lost himself in that mouth. Had done before. Easy to do again.

But Alec wanted more.

The wet slide of Ellery’s mouth was so hard to resist, but this wasn’t just about him. This was also about Ellery who had so openly shown Alec what he wanted. In his own way, yes, but the meaning came across clearly. His feelings and wants. 

“Christ! Stop El… too much.” Alec pulled back as his legs began to quiver, fingers tightly gripping El’s shoulders. Green eyes peered up at him, glistening with need. 

“Up...up!” Alec encouraged him to stand, pulling him in tightly and into a kiss that deepened within seconds. Ellery wiggled against him until Alec realised he was divesting himself of his pyjama pants also, and then a very naked Ellery pressed against Alec. 

“Levelling the field, are you?” Alec smirked against Ellery’s lips, hand snaking down his back to grab his arse.

“Cat… Alec…” Ellery sighed rubbing his hardening cock against Alec’s hip. 

Soft, smooth skin. So much of it. Scars and other blemishes, too. Alec’s hands and lips started the exploration he’d wanted for such a long time. Knew he could spend hours mapping the terrain of Ellery’s skin. “Going to know every, bloody millimetre of you,” he said, spinning El around to face the back of the sofa. “This, for example.” He licked and nibbled at a small mole at the bottom of Ellery’s left shoulder blade. It had been teasing, tempting Alec for months. His hands reached around to stroke and caress Ellery’s chest, toying with his nipples whilst Alec tasted the expanse of his back until with one, long groan El fell forward at the waist over the couch, hands braced against the seat cushions. 

Alec’s lips and hands continued their journey, stroking and licking until Ellery was rutting gently against the sofa. Alec knelt behind El, his fingers barely brushing the tender skin alongside El’s groin before skimming about to knead the flesh of his glorious arse. He licked the seam of Ellery’s bollocks before he dragged his tongue higher, parting the globes of his arse so Ellery was completely open to him. 

“Alec!” Ellery’s cry echoed off the wooden beams with the first touch of Alec’s mouth on him. 

Ellery shuddered, needy catting on every exhale. Alec chuckled at how erotic the word Cat sounded coming out of Ellery’s mouth. The more Alec mouthed and licked, the more Ellery squirmed until “cat” turned into a begging plea. 

Alec stood, pulling Ellery upward and pressed himself tightly against him, skin to skin. “Do you know how long I have wanted to feel you?” Alec murmured against the shell of Ellery’s ear. “Wandering around here half starkers all the time, and I never thought you would…”

Ellery squirmed, turning around in Alec’s arms. “Cat… Alec… Cat…” he pleaded, mouth pressed against Alec’s.

“I’ll give you Cat, you little shite,” Alec’s hand slipped between them, slowly caressing down Ellery’s chest to his stomach.

Ellery’s head fell against Alec’s shoulder with a sigh. He lingered there a moment, breathing heavily before turning his head to capture Alec’s lips with his own. 

Alec wrapped a hand around the two of them and stroked firmly but slowly, circling the tip of Ellery’s cock with his thumb on every upstroke. El’s need had made him so slick that Alec had no problem gliding his hand up and down, and with every grunt, moan, and whimper that El sighed into his mouth, Alec’s body started to rapidly respond in kind. 

They clung to one another as Alec worked them faster and faster, but when he felt Ellery’s body begin to tense, he stopped abruptly, remembering there had been a plan for this and rutting against one another in the living room was so not it. He grabbed El around the hips and hoisted him onto his shoulder. “No! Not going to have you up against the sofa our first time,” he growled as Ellery protested loudly, taking the stairs to the first storey two at a time. 

He had them down the hallway in a trice and tossed El rather unceremoniously onto the mattress. “Want you in  _ our  _ bed.” 

Alec rested one knee on the edge of the bed and bent over El. He braced his hands on either side of his shoulders but drew no closer, letting him make the final decision. Ellery looked up at him, frustration, anger, and need warring together on his face. 

“Mine!” Ellery snarled and reached up to pull Alec’s mouth to his again. He hooked a leg around Alec’s hip, tugged, and rolled him on the bed to sit astride him. 

Ellery pressed himself to Alec, chest to chest, mouth to mouth. “Greedy...” Alec murmured against his lips in between desperate kisses. 

“Cat... mine...” Ellery rubbed his cock against Alec’s stomach. Pulling up and away from Alec’s mouth, he closed his eyes, lost in the feeling building inside him. Alec found himself mesmerized watching Ellery’s face as he moaned and gasped. 

“El... easy. We’ve got time.” Alec reached up, both hands clasping Ellery's face. “And I am going to give you whatever you want,” Alec chuckled, pulling him back down into another kiss. 

Ellery suddenly pulled away and jumped off the bed, disappearing into the ensuite and after banging around in there for a minute, appeared back at the doorway proudly waving the condoms and lube he snagged out of Alec’s travel kit. 

The long strip of condoms glinted in the light, flashing like a great golden banner caught in Ellery’s hand. “Someone’s got big plans,” Alec chuckled against El’s mouth when he slid astride him again, but the chuckle turned quickly to a moan when Ellery pressed the strip into Alec’s open hand so he could turn his own attention to nipping and suckling at Alec’s neck, collarbone, and nipples. Paying as much attention to the landscape of his body as Alec had paid to El’s earlier.

“Fuck, of course, you’d find that straight away!” Ellery had latched onto the skin beneath his left pectoral, licking and nibbling at the flesh that had always been the most sensitive on Alec’s body. “Bloody sorcerer, you are.” He tried to reach for Ellery, but his hands were pushed away, up over his head and urged to curl into the slats of the headboard. 

Though his mouth was busy, the look in El’s eyes was clear. “My turn!” 

Ellery continued to map every scrape and scar down Alec’s torso with his lips, teeth, and tongue giving each one special attention, especially the ones that pulled moans from Alec. 

“Christ, El! You’re going to be the death of me,” Alec gasped when he reached the thick scar along the curve of this upper thigh from a deep knife wound he’d got while on a long term mission in Murmansk. 

“Cat?” Ellery glanced up at him, breath warm over his cock. Green eyes glimmering, asking...

Alec grabbed a condom, tossing it and the lube at Ellery. “Put it on me, El.” Voice low, needful. He couldn’t remember wanting anything as much as this. 

Neither, apparently, did Ellery. His preparations were hasty, and he was soon guiding the tip of Alec’s cock to his entrance and carefully sliding down upon it. Their pants and moans sounded softly between them, and when El was finally seated, he nipped at Alec’s mouth and whispered urgently, “Mine!”

He started moving, slowly at first, clearly enjoying just the sensation of being filled by Alec. Then he took Alec’s hands in his and guided them across his body, showing Alec how to pleasure him without the words he didn’t have. 

So erotic, it was almost more than Alec could handle, but he knew he needed more. He sat up and swivelled to his knees. Ellery’s legs wrapped around his hips for balance, and Alec pulled El tightly to him. 

Alec crushed his mouth to Ellery’s, trying to pour everything he was feeling into action instead of words, hoping Ellery would feel the depth of his intent. 

And as Ellery clung to him, Alec flipped them over. El gasped as his back hit the mattress and Alec pushed deep inside him. 

“Alec!” 

Alec hovered over him, one hand braced on either side of his head. 

“Look at me, El. Need to see your eyes, your face.” Alec began to thrust into him, Ellery meeting him in every move. 

Clear, green knowing eyes, world-wise from this lifetime and possibly others looked back at him with such feeling and understanding Alec nearly had to look away, but he did not. He reached between them and took Ellery in hand as they moved together. El arched off the bed, legs wrapping around Alec’s back even as his fingers tangled in his hair, bringing their foreheads together. Alec’s name falling from his lips with every exhalation. 

Alec felt Ellery tighten around him. A moment later he came with a gasp and a long moan that slid across Alec’s senses like a caress of molten silk. It was too much. Alec clasped El to him, roaring all that he felt for this man in his arms as he followed, spending himself deep inside Ellery. 


	65. Trouble Comes to Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in... 
> 
> Breathe out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ahhhhhhh ..." that's the sound of the collective exhalation that usually follows the end of 007Fest. What an amazing month it was! So many brilliant creations in so many different mediums. Thank you all for spending so much of your Fest energy with us and this story.
> 
> We're on to our new, revised posting schedule of Tuesdays and Fridays, and we hope that you enjoy this update. We're entering a new phase of the story where anything can happen and probably will.
> 
> Do let us know what you think.

Breathe in... 

Breathe out...

It was so easy now. No “Yes, Darling. No, Darling. Anything you want, Darling.” He can be himself. Relax. Do anything he wants… to his heart’s content. 

And his heart is content.

Isn’t it?

Shut up, you idiot. Don’t even go down that path. 

His attention is caught by two locals arguing over who’s caught the biggest catch in the past. Which of them is the superior fisherman? Both insistent. Both obviously lying. A nightly debate with no winner, only sore losers. Bond can’t help but chuckle and waves the bartender over to send a bottle their way to ease the tension. 

No need for any fights in the place tonight. 

Peace and quiet. 

Anything you want... Darling. 

Breathe in... 

Breathe out...

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the line of an elbow, an arm, appear on the bar next to him. The bulk of the body it’s attached to, a form he knows. Heavier and a little older than the last time he saw it. They have both aged a little, he muses, but he still knows who it is. 

“Don’t even bother,” he says as much to his drink as to the man. “Turn around now, and I’ll go back to my drink and act as if you weren’t ever here.”

“Is that any way to greet a brother after all the time?” Felix Leiter takes the seat next to Bond, waving down the bartender. 

“Not your _brother_ anymore, Felix. Retired. Remember.” Bond stares into his glass, slowly swirling the amber liquid.

Felix’s snort is light but pointed. “Once a brother always a brother … _Brother_.” He gestures at Bond’s drink and holds up two fingers to the bartender who promptly fills two glasses with Macallan. Felix clinks his with the one Bond is still staring into and takes a sip. “Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“Why are you here?” Bond asks around the lip of his glass.

“Vacation. Get away from work. Higher-ups insisted.” 

Bullshite says Bond’s glare. “Why are you _here_?”

“I’m hoping to do some sightseeing. Thought you might share some insights.”

Breathe in... 

Answering would drag him back in … danger and exhaustion. Purpose?

Breathe out...

Refusing to … Peace and quiet. Dulsutory?

Breathe in...

Does he dare? 

Breathe out...

Bond downs the rest of his whisky and starts on the second. “Did you have any particular _sights_ in mind?” 

Felix smiles. He pulls a clutch of photos from the pocket of his tropical-patterned shirt.

“This is a social call, brother. A few travel photos for you to see. Apologies for not bringing the slide projector and screen so you could enjoy the entire family vacation. But since you are... retired, they’re just a few to satisfy a friend’s curiosity. See if you’re familiar with any of these sights from your adventures.” Felix slides the photos face down across the bar toward Bond. 

Bond’s glass stops halfway to his mouth, and he gives Felix a raised eyebrow glance. “And why would I be interested in your family travel photos?” 

Breathe in... Breathe out... 

“We have an issue, Bond,” and there it is. Felix leans in closer so their conversation is more private. “We’ve been losing high-level scientists. Disappearing. Turning up dead later. Same pattern and no substantive leads.”

Felix hesitates as the bartender wanders by with another round. Nodding towards a table in the back of the room, Felix picks up his glass and the photos, moving out of the main flow of the pub. Bond watches him move and sit at the table, eventually following, though God knows why he does. 

“Now it’s moved onto tech-experts. Boffins, your lot call them,” Felix continues when Bond joins him. “Like those in your Q Branch.”

Breathe in…

“Rumour has it someone is looking for a particular boffin who has been off the market for some time and just recently reappeared. We’ve no clue who they are.”

Breathe out.. And there’s the connection. 

Yes, Darling. Anything you want, Darling. 

Shut the fuck _up_ , Darling. 

“We’re hoping to tail one of these people if we can find them in the first place. Lead us to whoever is behind all of this.” Felix fiddles with the photos, shuffles through them like they’re a deck of cards. “A lot of high demand, valuable talent is vanishing, and we want to know why.”

“What makes you think I know any of these talented boffins?” Bond leans back in his chair and sips his drink. Or why should I _want_ to know them… Darling... Bond thinks. This isn’t his world anymore. 

Should it be?

“I know it’s a long shot, but I thought you might have seen or had contact with one on one of your missions... someone...”

Felix passes Bond the photos face down on the table. He doesn’t take them. Continues to stare at Felix. Wordless.

“Please, brother.” Felix meets his stare unflinchingly. “It’s important. You’re my .. you’re _our_ best hope at tracking some of these boffins down.”

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

Without breaking his stare, Bond picks up the photos. Felix’s shoulders relax slightly. Bond turns his eyes to the first in the pile and begins flipping through them. Actually taking the time to determine whether or not he truly knows any. Whether he likes it or not, Felix has piqued his interest.

The photos are reasonably good. Decent opportunity for facial recognition.

“No,” he says after the first five: three women and two men. “None of them are familiar.” He only just manages to hide his surprise at the final photo, grateful Felix had been staring into his drink at that moment.

Fuck.

It’s a horrible image. The worst of the bunch. Black and white. Grainy. Pixelated. Old. Likely screen captured from a CCTV feed.

But the figure is unmistakable. At least to Bond. Younger. So very much younger, but he’d know those cheekbones and mop of curls anywhere. 

Q.

Felix rambles on about the circumstances of the disappearances. How the bodies were found. The CIA’s thoughts as to whether it could possibly be Spectre on the rise again or a new organisation moving in to take their place. How they aren’t ready to take this to other agencies yet. Need more intel before...

Breathe in... 

Blah blah blah...

Yeah, more intel, and in the meantime there would be more disappearances and more dead bodies showing up, Bond thinks. Typical for the CIA to take the slow road instead of being proactive. 

Bond stares at the photos in front of him. Or at least making it _seem_ like he is looking at all of them when only one holds his interest. He barely registers that Felix is telling him The Company doesn’t intend to reach out to Six quite yet. He’s here of his own accord. Off the books.

Breathe in...

“What _do_ you know about these people in the photos? Tell me the stories. Where were the photos taken? How old are they? Maybe something will sound familiar. Give me a starting place … brother.” Bond taps a finger at the photos on the table. 

Felix nods and begins to share everything he knows.

Breathe out... 

Bond suddenly realises he’s been holding it. 

  
  



	66. Inconvenient Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec had woken from his short nap to Ellery wrapped around, half on top of him, and it hadn’t taken long for wandering hands to start up, rather continue, the activities they’d been up to most of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt Tuesday's breaking news (aka: Bond chapter) with this return to the main storyline. Never fear, though! James Bond will be back! (sorry, had to throw that in there) And it will be a lot sooner than you think (or may wish)!! 
> 
> Truthfully, though, the two plotlines are spinning ever closer to one another now. For better or for worse? Well, that remains to be seen, doesn't it?
> 
> 😈
> 
> Please let us know what you think. It's been rather a rough week. School draws ever nearer for me (anxiety!), and Boffin's up to his ear tips in work, so stress abounds! Your comments have always sustained us in the past and would be very much welcome now. Yes ... that's me pretty much begging, but, hey, I'm good with that because we have such amazingly supportive and understanding readers!
> 
> Love you all to bits and bits and bits!
> 
> Ugh ... helps if I don’t fall asleep before posting the chapter. Sorry for the 6 hour delay :: posts and rolls back over to sleep:: 🙄💕
> 
> Like I said ... it’s been a week 🤣🤣💕

“Leave a fucking voicemail!” Alec yelled at his phone on the bedside table that was vibrating for the fifth time in the last half hour. “Busy!” He buried his face in the crook of Ellery's neck to work the tender skin there with his teeth. 

“Alec...” Ellery gasped, arching underneath him, rubbing the full length of his slim body against his broader lover. 

Alec had woken from his short nap to Ellery wrapped around, half on top of him, and it hadn’t taken long for wandering hands to start up, rather continue, the activities they’d been up to most of the day. 

“You definitely are going to be the death of me, El...” Alec groaned, cock stiffening again. A seemingly impossible feat for a man his age, but one Ellery was managing to pull out of him for the fifth time.

And then there it was. 

The phone. 

Again.

“Bloody fucking fuck!”

The vibrating was followed by loud banging on the cabin door below stairs, just as Alec was tossing his mobile across the bedroom. 

Ellery growled and snapped two fingers in the general direction of the front door and the pounding that continued unabated. “Cat!” he shouted, annoyed and resigned. He kissed Alec fiercely but then slid out from beneath him and off the bed, padding off toward the ensuite. He was naked and covered in love bites, and his cock stood out proudly from his body. 

It was one of the most beautiful sights Alec had ever seen. 

The look Ellery shot Alec over his shoulder before he disappeared into the loo suggested that if Alec got rid of their unwanted visitor quickly there was definitely more mischief to be had.

“Minx.” Alec snagged his Sig from beneath the pillow and a pair of jeans from the dresser. He’d managed to hop into them before descending the stairs but didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes. Though tempting to brandish the weapon on whoever the fuck it was pounding on the door, he tucked it in the back of his jeans, instead. Their guest wouldn’t be staying long in any event.

He caught sight of the setting sun through the sitting room windows as he passed through -- he and El really had been busy all day -- and as he approached the door, Alec finally caught the demanding, slightly frantic voice on the other side that accompanied the pounding. It called out his and Ellery’s names.

Grace.

Alec suddenly remembered the quick text he’d zipped off to her earlier in the day. _Much_ earlier in the day. The one where he promised to get back with her about Ellery and Cat once he knew more. He checked his watch. Nine hours ago.

Bloody, buggering fuck, indeed!

This was _so_ not going to be fun. Alec put his hand on the doorknob, took a bracing breath, and opened it.

“Evening, Grace,” he said with the most charming smile he had in his arsenal.

Grace stormed into the cabin, past Alec without even a glance.

She was snarling mad. 

“ANSWER YOUR PHONE! You always answer your phone. You never do _not_ answer your phone.” She looked about the lower storey of the cabin. The look on her face was more than a tad frantic. 

“Where is Ellery? Is he alright? You didn’t call and I...”. Grace stopped in mid-sentence as she turned to face Alec. “Oh. Ohhhh! “ She took a longer look at Alec’s flushed, love-bitten torso where Ellery had left more than his share of marks, too.

“You bastard!” Grace snapped. “You could have interrupted your Shag Fest to call or taken even two minutes to answer your phone!”

“Nice to see you too, Grace. Ellery,” Alec called up the stairs. “Grace is here. Best put some trousers on before you come down. Not as if she hasn’t seen you naked, though.”

“Now Grace, before you start in on me with more scolding, we talked about everything first. Well... you know. Ellery catted about it.” Alec ran a hand through his shaggy -- or, rather, shagged out -- hair. “And who would have ever guessed he was such a little minx!”

She held up her hand and shook her head. “Just stop right there. I don’t … just _no_. The love bites alone … looks like you’ve been set upon by leeches.”

“Well, Ellery was rather difficult to dislodge at times.”

Grace narrowed her eyes. “Sass. Just lovely. You’re enjoying yourself aren’t you.”

“Not as much as I was five minutes ago,” Alec said wryly, turning from her. She followed him to the kitchen where he ducked his head into the fridge, looking for something to make for dinner. About halfway through the afternoon, Ellery had sent Alec downstairs in search of provisions, but El had insisted on using Alec’s abs as a plate for the bits of hard salami, cheese, and grapes he’d brought back with him. Needless to say, lunch was quickly abandoned. Alec had to admit he was more than a bit peckish. 

“You’ve only yourself to blame,” Grace chided him. She sat at the table as he deposited a selection of meats and cheeses on the worktop before pulling out the panini press from the cupboard below. “One phone call is all it would have taken to let me know what was going on. A text, even.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Knock it off, I am _not_ your mum.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “Acting like one.”

Her shoulders tensed as did her jaw, and Alec prepared himself for the tongue-lashing he could see forming in her eyes when suddenly Grace deflated and pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God. I am, aren’t I? I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Grace. Well, maybe not in _this_ instance,” Alec indicated his generally shagged-out appearance as he started assembling six sandwiches, “but we’re not really just doctor and patients anymore, are we? Kinda nice to know someone’s looking out for us because they genuinely care.”

“But Cat’s okay? She came back?”

“The Queen of the Cabin is safe and likely still enthroned atop the chair in the bedroom.” Alec went on to detail Cat’s return and his speculation as to her own sexual escapades. 

Ellery finally wandered downstairs, hair looking like he had just come in from a wind storm. Dressed only in a pair of pyjama pants that barely clung to his hips, his pale skin was still flushed and peppered with love bites upon love bites. 

Alec had moved on to making a pot of coffee, and Ellery pressed himself up against Alec’s back where he stood at the counter. He nibbled at the nape of Alec’s neck, hands dipping into the front of his jeans.

“Later, El. We have company now.” Alec chuckled, pulling him off his back, handing him a cuppa for himself and for Grace. 

“Cat!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Grace. 

“Oh no!” Grace pointed a finger right back at him. “This is not my doing, young man. Someone was supposed to call me. What was I supposed to think?!” Ellery just shrugged, handed her the mug, and grabbed a few nibbles from Alec’s sandwich fixings before plopping down in the chair next to Grace. “You should know, there was a development last night.”

“Bit of an understatement, I’d say.” Ellery snorted then giggled at Alec’s suggestive tone.

“Enough out of you,” she elbowed Ellery whose coffee sloshed a tad in his mug at the jolt. He sucked at his fingers, eyeing Alec as he did so. “Another reason why I needed to talk to you is I received a call from Eve Moneypenny last night.” Ellery immediately stiffened. His playful aura evaporated, and he started to get up from the table. 

Grace put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Ellery. She wasn’t searching for you. Either of you.” She looked at Alec who had stopped preparing dinner. His jaw was as tight as the grip Ellery had on her hand. 

“What _did_ she want, then?” he demanded. He pulled out the chair at the end of the table, on the other side of Ellery. A tap on his chin and El looked at Alec who breathed a sigh of relief. His eyes were clear. Present. Ellery was working for it, though. Alec could see he wanted to hide in his other world but was fighting his instinct. “Proud of you.” Alec kissed El’s temple then turned his attention to Grace.

Grace took a bracing sip of her coffee. “Wasn’t just her, actually. R and another Double-O, Scarlett Papava, were present, too.”

“Double-O Four?! The fuck? You’re sure they didn’t want to know where we were?”

“No, but they were worried. Quite worried. Papava practically begged me to share a message if I ever heard from you again.”

“Cat?” What message?

Alec started. He couldn’t remember Ellery _ever_ engaging directly in a conversation about him and Six, but El's attention was fixed entirely on Grace who was equally surprised but clearly pleased by his response. 

“She asked that you not completely cut yourself off from Six.” She held up her hand before Alec’s and Ellery’s protests grew too loud. “No. Hear me out. I thought about it and it makes sense. It confirms part of what you’ve warned me about in the past, Alec.”

“Explain.”

“That if/when the rest of the world figures out that The Quartermaster is no longer in control of Q-Branch, no longer associated with MI6, more than just Mallory will come hunting for him, and you won’t be enough to keep Q safe when they do. Scarlett said she had owed unpaid debts to you and Ellery. To contact her when you needed, and she would come. ”

“No! No!” Alex protested wrapping an arm around Ellery’s chest from behind. “I can protect him.”

“Alec! Think about this logically.”

“I am, Grace. Ellery is _my_ responsibility to protect. I will do just that.” Alec felt Ellery shudder underneath him, breathing quickening. 

“El. Stay with me.” Alec turned his face upwards to look in his eyes. Focused but struggling, it could fade at any moment. “We’re fine, El. Not going to find us.”

He looked across at Grace. “I can protect him, Grace. If there is the slightest hint that there is trouble, we’ll move on. I can protect him.”

“But you shouldn’t have to live on the run, Alec. Why not accept help? Not just from them.” Grace added, gesturing in the general direction of Britain and the trio of women who were so worried about the men. She knew Alec meant what he said, but if they ran life would always be that, running, until someone, somehow eventually caught up with them. Then what?

“You’ve made a life for yourselves here,” she continued. “A good one. If you run once, you’ll always have to. Here you have friends. Here you have support. Everyone who knows you would do everything they could to help you and Ellery.” She took a deep breath. “Some of us to the death, if necessary. Defend _this_ life, Alec.”

“Grace, you’re not capable of--”

“You don’t know what I am and am not capable of, Alec Trevelyan!” Grace snarled. She jumped up from her chair and glared down at him. “I may not be a Double-O, but I didn’t spend nearly a decade in and out of war zones without knowing how to protect myself and those with me. Corpsmen and doctors were high-value targets for kidnapping, after all, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy on them.”

“Cat?!” Ellery gripped Alec’s arm where it was still wrapped around his chest. He sounded confused and more than a tad astonished. Alec couldn’t blame him. They’d never seen Grace like this.

“Don’t you ‘Cat’ at me, young man. You’re no better than he is. You both saunter into my life without so much as a by-your-leave, weasel your way past my professional defenses, and into my heart. Then Alec begs me to look after you in case something happens to him, and what do I do? I agree because I no longer have two patients. You’re right, Alec, I have two _sons_ who I would do anything for. Even lay down my life because I protect what’s mine. But that’s apparently not good enough. You said you trusted me, Alec. Bob, too. To have your back. To protect Ellery. And you still say you’re going to run?! Fine. Why wait?! Do it now before you make any more _inconvenient_ connections.” She snagged her car keys from the table and stalked to the front door. “You might consider asking Ellery what he wants, though. Living a life on the run or taking a fucking stand for what matters. Best you take your _husband’s_ feelings into consideration if you won’t take anyone else’s.” 

Grace slammed the door behind her. Moments later they heard an engine rev and the kick of dirt and gravel spray up from the drive as her Outback sped down the lane to the main road.


	67. London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ... 
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! We've surpassed 20k hits to this story. Over 20 thousand hits in just over four and a half months! We are beyond amazed! Thank you so much for your interest and your continued support of this story. It means so much to us in so many different ways!
> 
> Next milestone ... 1000 comments (which also just blows our minds)! We're getting close all because of you, dear readers! You are amazing!
> 
> And now for Tuesday's update! Apologies that it's a short one. Short, but pivotal. 
> 
> Okay, admittedly, there are a lot of exclamation points up above, but gosh darn it all, I'm so twitterpated!

Breathe in ... 

Breathe out ... 

Bond stood at the carousel, watching it go round and round, waiting for his luggage to appear. Tucked tightly in his jacket pocket sat the photos Felix had given to him three days ago. 

Three days that had brought a reluctant change to his peaceful existence in paradise. Quiet. Peaceful. Unassuming, paradise. 

Anything you’d like, Darling …

Breathe in ... 

Felix’s appearance disturbed his entire planned existence, bringing with it the reality of the world he had walked away from. MI6. Q. The never-ending reality that when you thought you dismantled aspect of your life, there was always something else lurking in the shadows. 

A fact keenly accentuated when he found Felix dead in his hotel room after failing to show for their planned breakfast conversation. Bond quickly gathered up the intel in Felix’s room only a ‘brother’ would know to look for and headed back to his place. There he threw essentials into a few bags and fled the area on his boat for the surrounding islands. 

His luggage appeared. 

Now Bond had decisions to make. 

Breathe out ... 

He grabbed his bags and made for customs. He had nothing to declare. 

Felix had been tortured -- abused in a way that Bond, for all he had seen and done in his own career, cared not to think overly much upon -- before two bullets were put into his skull. The room tossed. Someone searching for what they had been unable to pry out of Leiter, for Felix would  _ not _ have talked. 

The photos? More than likely.

Breathe in ...

Which meant someone was hunting Q.

Breathe out ...

Another passenger knocked into Bond from behind. He hadn’t realised he’d stopped in the middle of the corridor. A quick apology and the man disappeared through the opaque sliding doors that led to the terminal where no one would be waiting to greet Bond.

Breathe in ...

Bond adjusted the bag on his shoulder and his grip on his roller bag. Made his way to the taxi rank. 

They were hunting Q.

“Where to, mate?” the driver asked.

Decisions to make.

Hunting Q.

Breathe out ...

Decisions.

“Mate? Where d’ya want to go?”

Q.

Breathe in ...

“Lambeth. 85 Albert Embankment.”

“You sure? Nothing there anymore but a bloody big wreck of a building.”

“Yes,” Bond snapped. “I  _ know _ what it is. Take me there.”

Breathe out ... He’d been holding it again.

Decision made.

“Take me to MI6.”

They were hunting Q.

  
  
  
  
  



	68. A Right Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Staying was what Alec Trevelyan, the man, wanted. But he would always be a Double-O, one protecting the greatest asset in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a crazy week it's been. I nearly forgot today was Friday, if you can believe that!
> 
> Boffin and I did not expect quite such a passionate response to the death in the previous chapter, but then, you all are so very passionate about the characters in this tale be they ours or from canon.
> 
> We hope you enjoy Friday's update. Do let us know what you think!
> 
> Have a fabulous weekend, friends! 💕💕

“Cat?” Ellery whispered, and Alec immediately knew the tone behind that word. 

“Oh, no you don’t, Ellery. No drifting away on me now!” Ellery was struggling to focus when Alec knelt beside his chair. 

“Cat?” It was sad, plaintive. 

“Fucked up didn’t we,” Alec sighed, running a hand through Ellery’s hair trying to keep him calm and present. “We need to fix it don’t we?” 

“Alec? Cat?”

“Yes, I know. Idiot.” Alec continued to babble at him. “I just want you safe, El. That’s the important thing.” Alec stood offering a hand to Ellery, pulling him up out of the chair. 

“Head upstairs and get cleaned up... dressed in more than pajama pants. We need to go after Grace.” Ellery started towards the stairs but hesitated as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be doing. 

“Stay with me, El.” Alec saw the pause and urged him on. “First we fix this with Grace. Then we need to talk about our plans. Go on. Clean up. Off you pop. I’ll be right there.”

Alec waited until Ellery was headed up the stairs, Cat at his heels, before turning back to the kitchen. He stared at the table where Grace’s cup of coffee still steamed and considered what she had said. 

If they ran, they always would be running. 

Life on the run was dangerous. Stressful. Possibly too much so for Ellery. It had taken nearly all Alec had in him just to get Ellery to Colorado when they _weren’t_ being pursued, and El had only _just_ been able to find the strength to stay present during the hours Cat was missing. With a very hard and unpredictable life on the road -- never staying in one place for more than a few days at a time, never being able to trust, always looking over their shoulders -- there was a very real risk that El would slip back into his private world, permanently. 

Alec couldn’t allow that to happen. Not when he had just started to get El -- and _Q_ \-- back.

Grace was right. They had built a good life here. Their cover hadn’t been blown. It had, in fact, been made stronger because they were active, accepted, members of the community. Well-liked for all their peculiarities. Ellery, too, had grown stronger because of the roots they had put down. Because of Grace and Bob and Sam and Miriam and the girls and countless others. Alec wouldn’t have El -- his partner, the man he loved -- if not for their support, friendship, and affection.

Staying was what Alec Trevelyan, the _man,_ wanted. But he would always be a Double-O, one protecting the greatest asset in his life. Staying in Devil’s Gulch meant potentially putting all of their friends, as well as Ellery, at physical risk. It was as Alec had told Grace months ago. Maybe not today. Nor tomorrow. Perhaps not even this year, but someday, they _would_ be found. Whether by Mallory and Six, one of their international enemies, or someone new who wanted to exploit what Q was capable of doing.

But reestablishing contact with Six, even to maintain a pretense? Did they dare? He trusted Scarlett with his life. But could he trust her with Ellery’s?

There were no clearly good options, but they had to make a choice.

Alec sighed and picked up both Grace’s and Ellery’s coffee mugs. He dumped them out and rinsed them in the sink before packing up the sandwiches he hadn’t finished preparing. They’d pick up something in town after they spoke to Grace. 

A sudden, intense, dull pain shot through the left side of his chest when he stood from putting away the panini press in its lower cupboard, nearly robbing him of breath. 

Fuck!

Alec rubbed at it, and after a moment the pain eased. He drew a careful breath and rolled his neck and shoulders, and the pain disappeared altogether. Probably pulled a muscle with all the shagging. He’d had worse from far less pleasurable activities. 

The kitchen finally clean, Alec headed upstairs to get dressed, wondering idly what one wore when begging forgiveness from one’s non-quite mum.

Ellery had showered and was mostly dressed in jeans and a dark green button-up shirt, but he was clearly still struggling with his focus, fussing with the buttons, trying to get them aligned. Alec tapped him on the cheek with a finger to get his attention. 

“Let me get those.” Alec gently moved his fingers away. “We’ll fix this Ellery,” he said, trying to reassure him as he moved down the row of buttons until done. 

“Do you want to stay here, El?” Alec caressed his cheek until Ellery looked up from the bottom button he’d been scrutinizing as if trying to figure out just what Alec had done to make that all go so smoothly. “I think for now it’s our best option. We’ll just take things as they come. Alright?” 

“Cat. Alec.”

“Yes, I know. Grace first. Get ourselves off the shite list. But for now, you need shoes and socks. No arguing.” Alec pointed at Ellery’s checkerboard Vans tossed in the corner. “Going to town. Shoes a must. Get them on whilst I shower.”

After a quick stop at the local florist to purchase roses as a peace offering -- Alec hoped a dozen from each of them and another for good measure would be enough to calm the ire of a rather scary Grace Mikelson -- they headed to the coffee shop assuming she would be there even though it was close to closing time, but no Grace. Sam indicated he hadn’t seen her since she’d headed out to the cabin. 

There was no sign of her at her house, either. 

Eventually, Alec and Ellery found themselves on the doorstep of another familiar house a few blocks away. Aunt Miriam opened the door before they could even knock. The “Queen of Devil’s Gulch” assessed them carefully, fox-headed cane in hand. 

She humphed. 

“I was wondering when you two were going to show up. Haven’t seen her this angry and upset in a long time. I’ll make tea. You two go grovel.” Aunt Miriam pointed towards the back door. “Well… off with you. She’s out on the patio.”

Miriam’s back garden was an explosion of colour with baskets of flowers that hung from tall, hooked poles and sat in potted groupings along the edges of the patio. Fairy lights twined through them and several outdoor lamps created a warm glow that was enough to see by without being overly harsh. Grace sat at an umbrellaed table with her back to the door, looking out into the dark night with a glass of whisky curled loosely in her hand that rested on the table.

Alec and Ellery looked from Grace to each other. Neither of them was certain how to handle this, but Alec knew it was up to him to voice the apology they both owed their friend. But a sudden hand on his arm stopped him, and with a brief finger to his lips and a nod for the pavement on which they stood to indicate Alec should stay silent and remain here, Ellery took all the flowers Alec carried and made his way to Grace. He stood before her for several heartbeats before she even looked at him directly, and when she did, she said nothing.

Ellery cocked his head as if studying Grace, and Alec could see multiple emotions play out over his expressive face: confusion, sadness, ruefulness, affection, and determination. El got on his knees and placed the roses at Grace’s feet. Arranging them ‘just so’ before sitting back on his calves. He placed a single, pink bloom he had pulled from one of the bouquets in her lap and looked up at her. El’s mouth quivered and he chewed the inside of his mouth. His face was pinched with deep concentration, and Alec could see his partner was searching for a way to access another word.

One that could make all the difference. Alec held his breath. Wondering what word Ellery was so desperate to find.

His lips trembled as they laboured to form the word. The sounds that worked past his lips were tremulous. Uncertain. 

Ellery huffed. Impatient with himself. He tugged at his hair and scrubbed his face in frustration, but he tried again.

And again.

The consonants fought him. The vowels, elusive.

El sighed, closed his eyes, and focused. Finally, it came, smoothly and strong. 

“Grace!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	69. Legoland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ...
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to take some breathing lessons from Bond rather than breathing into a paper sack, at the moment. This is going to be an interesting school year... for everyone! That's all I'm saying! Love you all! 
> 
> We hope you enjoy this update, short though it is.

Breathe in...

Bond stood on the pavement staring up at the broken remains of the concrete and tiled building that still loomed over the Thames and Vauxhall like the pyramids over Giza. Very little had been done to haul away the rubble of the once imposing monstrosity though nearly two years had passed since Blofeld had blown the building in an attempt to kill him and Madeleine.

Breathe out...

He once knew this building better than his own flat. Had probably spent more time here than in his own flat, for that matter. Could still see the corner block of rooms on the 7th storey where the Double-Os had their offices. Not that they ever really used them. The stories below ground, reclaimed by Old Father Thames. A watery tomb for the once-bustling technical branches. M’s office --  _ his  _ M -- completely gone. Blown to hell by Silva but now a gaping maw. 

Yes, darling. Anything you say, darling.

With pleasure, M.

Breathe in...

Why direct the cabbie here instead of straight to Whitehall? 

If Six was his past, then this … wreckage was ancient history.

History that refused to die. 

Breathe out...

Though only paper, he felt the weight of the photos in the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

One of the lot far heavier than it had any right to be. Bond turned on his heel and returned to the taxi. 

Breathe in... 

Off across the river.

Breathe out... 

Breathe in... 

FCO. 

He knew this building, too. Though not as well. And yet, he couldn’t just walk into it anymore. Well, he could, but that would cause all sorts of issues not only for himself but for a lot of other people who simply wouldn’t appreciate the humour in it all. 

Breathe out... 

So, front door it was. 

Civil entrance. 

Breathe in... 

Four armed security checkpoint officers watching the lobby area.

Eight civilians. 

Four MI6 staff.

One … two … three, no, four more security checkpoint officers behind the bulletproof glass of the check-in point in addition to the officer manning the desk. 

“Can I help you, Sir? Do you have an appointment?”

“No appointment.”

“Sir, unless you have an appointment, I don’t believe we can help you today.” A second officer who’d been listening to the conversation moved up behind him. 

Breathe out... 

“Just call Moneypenny. I’m quite sure M will see me.” The security officer at the far side of the glass-fronted checkpoint reached up and tapped his comms, and four others in the lobby area began to slowly ease the civilians towards the exit doors. Those four he could handle. The bulletproof glass might cause a bit of bother, though. He’d improvise if he had to. 

Breathe in... 

“Call Moneypenny.”

“Your name, Sir?”

Breathe out... 

“Bond. James Bond.” He shot his cuffs with a satisfied smirk on his face at the now utterly baffled faces staring back at him.

Breathe in... 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	70. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just because you have Aunt Miriam wrapped around your little finger doesn’t mean you aren’t still on my shit list, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an unplanned bonus chapter, so the editing might be a bit rough around the edges, but Boffin and I felt it might be a good idea to cleanse the palate a bit. You'll still get a regular Friday update, but we'd like to redirect to more pleasant things. 
> 
> It is so important that this story continues to bring us all joy and be the safe space we all clearly need right now. As Boffin so eloquently said, "Please stay with us... be overjoyed, be upset, be worried, be excited... but most of all, stay with us through this ride that Alec and Ellery are taking us on to see where it leads us." 
> 
> We hope you enjoy this chapter. Do let us know. Truly, comments are life for us right now. You've no idea how much we are living off your positive feedback.
> 
> Love you all! 💕💕

Grace and Alec sat at Aunt Miriam’s kitchen table in silence, a cup of tea in front of each of them growing cooler by the moment. Roses in several vases decorated the worktops, and Ellery pottered around in Miriam’s cupboards getting out dessert plates as she instructed him which ones to get. 

“Well young man, if those two are not going to speak to each other, at least you and I will have some chocolate cake and they will miss out.” Miriam took a china plate from Ellery that he very carefully handed to her. “Just leaves more for you and me to enjoy.”

“Busybody,” Grace huffed at her. 

“And have I ever been wrong, Gracie?” Ellery, like Aunt Miriam’s shadow, stood behind her shaking his head that ‘no, she had not.’

“Grace, we didn’t mean...  _ I _ didn’t mean...” Alec reached a hand across the table towards her. 

“You are still on the shit list!” Grace glared at him, pulling her hand out of reach. 

“Grace...” Alec started again.

“Grace,” Ellery echoed. “Cat...” He shoved a bite of cake in his mouth. 

“Just because  _ you  _ have Aunt Miriam wrapped around your little finger doesn’t mean you aren’t still on  _ my  _ shit list, too.”

“Ignore her, Ellery.” Miriam cut another piece of cake. “Gracie lacks manners at times and tends to be a little dramatic if you know what I mean.” 

“Cat... cat,” Ellery chittered at her in agreement. 

“Well you’re at least trying,” she said to Alec, “so you can have a piece of cake, also.” Miriam offered the slice to Alec, not to Grace.

Grace huffed and turned away.

“Enough of that, young woman.” Miriam pounded her ancient fist on the table with just enough strength to rattle the china, and Grace spun to face her, surprised at the anger in her voice. “Why would I give you anything when you’re behaving like a stubborn fool? You’re 63 years old, not 16, and while I may be too old now to put you over my knee, I’d like to think you have enough respect for me to listen to what I have to say. These two boys may be the worst I’ve  _ ever  _ seen at expressing it, but they love you. They made a mistake and are trying to fix it, but you’re too …” she looked at Ellery to help her with what she wanted. “What’s the term you like?” 

“Cat.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, dear,” Miriam looked back at Grace. “You’re too _bloody-minded_ to listen to them.”

The stiff set to Grace’s shoulders eased somewhat. Alec began to feel the first sparks of hope.

Miriam rounded the table and took Grace’s face in her slightly shaking hands. “They love you. You love them. Apologize and move on. Ellery’s getting stronger,” she smiled fondly at El’s bit of preening at her comment, “but he still needs the both of you, and you need the both of them. Gracie, my darling girl, you found the family you were always meant to have.” She directed her next words to all of them. “You all did. Don’t let your fears of what  _ might _ happen, drive you from what will be your greatest strength and source of support. Each other.” 

Whilst there was more grumbling at that, Grace softened, listened, and, eventually, everyone in the small kitchen was enjoying tea and cake.

A week later, Ellery sat at his table in the back corner of Raven’s Roast with his laptop in front of him. Miriam sat across from him, chatting about things going on in Devil’s Gulch whilst Ellery worked on his newest contracted bug hunt. 

“And then she had the nerve to hand out a copy of her recipe without any of us even asking for it. Can you believe that!” 

“Cat!” Ellery glanced up from his laptop, eyes wide, horrified at the gall, commenting on Miriam’s story in true cat fashion. 

“Exactly! And then she tries to insinuate herself onto the refreshments committee for the spring social at the parish.” Miriam pushed a plate containing an assortment of pastries his way tapping the edge of the plate indicating to Ellery to help himself. 

At the table next to them, Alec chuckled at their gossip, how seriously they both took it, and the ease with which the half-catted conversation took place. Each understood everything the other said perfectly. 

He was about to comment on it himself when the pain in his chest tugged again. 

“Not feeling well?” Grace looked at him concerned as she topped off her aunt’s cup and then refilled his, too. 

“Heartburn,” Alec said, rubbing at his chest, inhaling carefully as the pain continued to linger. “Probably drinking too much of your damned coffee.” 

“I heard that young man!” Miriam chastised him tapping the back of his chair. “You promised me no more bickering and poking.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I promised. Apologies Grace.”

“It’s fine,” Grace said, waving it off, knowing it wasn’t meant maliciously. “No more of this, though. Let me get you something that will help.” She took up his coffee mug and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Are you unwell?” asked Miriam.

“Just a tad of heartburn. It goes away.” Alec assured her. 

Ellery closed his laptop, rose, and slid into the empty chair next to Alec. He pressed his hand to Alec’s chest where he had been rubbing it and looked carefully at Alec’s face. His green eyes had been clear and focussed for days, and now The Quartermaster eyes that saw and assessed everything were trained on him. “Cat?”

“It does. It goes away. Just been eating the wrong things,” Alec argued. Ellery had witnessed more than one bout of his discomfort over the last several days. “You know we’ve been eating like shite. More like Uni students than responsible, grown men.”

Ellery snorted at that and rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Responsible’s stretching it, but I’ve not been cooking for us as I should. Been lazy.” Ellery smiled, pressed a quick but filthy kiss to his lips, and patted his hand knowingly.

Grace returned and sat a bottle of antacid tablets and a steaming mug of tea in front of Alec. Ellery took one sniff of the steam and immediately recoiled. The screech of his chair scraping on the floor sounded through the shop. 

The _hated_ lemon ginger tea!

“Cat!” 

Sitting down opposite the men, Grace ignored Ellery’s disgust and pushed the mug closer to Alec, who took it up. “It’ll soothe your esophagus. Drink it. Why so lazy with the cooking? That’s not typical for you.”

Alec tried not to choke on his tea, but the sputter was unavoidable. “Been otherwise occupied,” he said once he was done coughing.

“Oh? New project?” Grace asked with interest. She knew there were still many plans Ellery had for the garden.

He took another sip. A delay. An opportunity to search for a reply. Though the tea really did seem to help a tad. 

“Not … exactly a project really just keeping busy ‘round the cabin.” Christ that lie sounded weak even to his own ears. Six months and already his Double-O skills were going to shite, but he was not going to explain to Grace that he hadn’t had the energy to look after their diet because he and Ellery were exhausting one another with sex.

And then El leaned in and started nibbling on his earlobe.

“Stop that!” Alec laughed, pulling back from Ellery. “You are a menace!” Ellery catted at him suggestively and returned to his laptop. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” Grace teased him. “Your project is  _ Ellery _ .”

“Come on, El! Time to go...” Alec stood from the table. He was  _ so  _ not going to have this conversation, especially not in Raven’s Roast. “If we’re going to start eating better, we need to stop at the grocery, and I’m controlling the cart.”

“Cat! Cat!” Ellery protested, pointing at his laptop.

“Whatever has drawn your fancy can wait until we get home. Time to go.”

“Auntie...” Ellery sighed at Miriam. 

“I’m not saving you,” Miriam laughed. “Time to go, young man. But remember,” she directed to Alec as Ellery quickly stowed his gear in his laptop bag, “You’re expected for Tuesday Tea. Bring your quarters.”

Alec snorted and took El’s hand in his. “Ruthless old woman!” he called over his shoulder. 

Miriam’s laugh followed them from the shop.


	71. More than Cat Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El nodded and popped off down the main aisle past the tills. Alec couldn’t help but smile after him. So different than he was when they arrived in Devil’s Gulch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Friday's update! We hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you for all your wonderful comments about the last chapter. We think you'll have a few things to say about this one, too. Have a fabulous weekend, everyone. We all deserve it!
> 
> 💕🙂

“Were you always such a contrary little shite?” Alec sighed. He wasn’t two steps inside the grocery when El rushed ahead of him to snag a cart, pushing it toward the produce section at an energetic clip. Alec half expected him to hop on the bottom rail and ride it through the store. 

“Cat! Ellery grinned wickedly at him before turning his attention to the green grapes.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I was,” Alec translated under his breath. He snagged three avocados as he passed the bin and put them in the cart where Ellery had already stowed his grapes and two bunches of bananas and was already off shucking ears of the fresh Olathe corn that was on offer. They’d had some at Grace’s last night for dinner, and Ellery couldn’t eat enough of it. While it was good to see El eat for enjoyment, the manner in which Ellery attacked each buttered ear, with surreptitious sultry glances in Alec’s direction when Grace wasn’t paying attention, had made Alec’s jeans uncomfortably tight by the time they were ready for pudding. 

Alec had passed on the peach cobbler but still had his dessert: up against the bonnet of the Explorer when they’d pulled into the drive at the cabin. The sight of Ellery’s pale back and arse in the moonlight as Alec slid his cock into him, again and again, was an image Alec was unlikely to forget anytime soon. 

He took the ten ears of corn Ellery presented to him and gestured toward the far side of the store where pet supplies were housed. “Go get those treats Cat likes so much, and when we’re done here, we’ll stop at Callie’s for the special food the vet suggested she eat until she has the kittens.”

El nodded and popped off down the main aisle past the tills. Alec couldn’t help but smile after him. So different than he was when they arrived in Devil’s Gulch.

“He’s a lot better isn’t he?” Jacob appeared at Alec’s elbow, a cart of ‘on-the-vine’ tomatoes at his side. “I remember the first time you two were in here. He didn’t even speak then. Not many words now, but I can see he’s better. El’s a good guy.”

Alec snagged a bunch of tomatoes -- theirs were a week or so from being ready -- and nodded. “He is and he is.”

Jacob nodded in return. Two men. Feelings acknowledged. Moment over.

“Mason’s got some thick-cut, bone-in ribeyes put aside for you, so be sure to stop by the meat counter.” Jacob grabbed the handle of his cart and headed off to complete his tasks. 

Unfortunately, it was the day the grocery had all their ‘sample this product’ vendors scattered throughout the store and said vendors were more than happy to cater to Ellery’s snacking whims. The mission for the day would be to get Ellery through the grocery without him foraging on all the treats he could scavenge. 

Alec stopped to chat with the butcher at the meat counter and to grab a few other things to get them through the week. 

“Bacon. A couple pounds of it. Can’t believe how much bacon Ellery can go through.”

“Wouldn’t know it to look at him. Skinny thing that he is,” Mason commented, handing the wrapped package of ribeyes to Alec. “And speak of the devil.”

Alec turned to see Ellery coming down the aisle. Along with the bag of cat treats, he was balancing a package of Oreos, another of Nutter Butter cookies, and a large bottle of orange Fanta whilst munching on what appeared to be a pastry he had snagged from somewhere. 

Alec sighed. “Sent you on a simple mission for cat treats and what do you come back with? Remember how we were going to start eating better? Healthier? Just where do cookies and soda fall in those parameters?”

Ellery launched into a lengthy cattery about his choices as he put them in the cart, pausing to cough lightly then take another bite of his chocolate pastry.

“No. Orange Fanta is _not_ a fruit and Nutter Butters are not a source of protein,” but Alec didn’t make him put any of it back. Not that it would do any good anyway. Though the cart ghost hadn’t needed to make an appearance in quite some time, Alec wouldn’t curb Ellery’s sweet tooth. He could use the extra calories along with healthier options. “Thanks, Mason.” He grabbed the wrapped bacon the man passed him and pointed to the other side of the case. “Maybe some of the marinated chicken thighs, too. Want to grill those up for dinner tonight, El?” 

Ellery coughed in reply. “I hope you’re not coming down with that summer cold Mele has.” Alec turned in time to see Ellery clutch the front of the cart with one hand as the remains of the pastry fell from his other. 

The coughing turned to wheezing, and Ellery gripped at his chest, falling to his knees on the hard floor as he gasped for breath. His eyes were wild as he reached out blindly, desperate for help. 

“Ellery! What’s…” Alec dropped to the floor next to him pulling Ellery into his lap. 

“Cat... Alec...” Ellery managed to choke out but the wheezing was getting worse and he was starting to struggle to breathe. Alec could feel El’s heart pounding rapidly as he held him, gasping for breath, and unable to swallow. 

“Fuck, El! The pastry! Strawberries!” Alec carefully laid Ellery on the ground and dug in his pockets for the Epi-pen. Ellery’s hands were frantic and grabbed at Alec. 

“What can I do?” Mason appeared at Alec’s side. “His lips are turning blue!”

“Hold on, El! Just hold on.” Alec uncapped the Epi-pen, positioning it against the side of Ellery’s right thigh. With a hard shove, he triggered the injector praying the epinephrine would help. 

“Call A&E. Let them know we’re on the way!” Alec ordered Mason. Shoving the Epi-pen back into its container and his pocket, he bodily scooped Ellery up off the floor and sprinted to their vehicle. Though risky, he knew he’d make it to the Medical Center far quicker than an ambulance could make it to them.

Alec propped Ellery’s limp form against the back quarter panel with one hand so he could open the door. 

“Ellery, you with me?” Whilst his breathing wasn’t as laboured, he was barely struggling now. The only thing keeping him upright was Alec’s hand pressed against his chest. Yanking the door open, Alec slid El onto the back seat. He groaned and tried to curl into a ball but couldn’t. 

The streets were relatively empty for a weekday afternoon, but Alec still made the half-mile to the Devil’s Gulch Medical Center in record time, bringing the Explorer to a controlled stop beneath the Emergency Room’s portico with only a minor screech of rubber on pavement. Mason had made the call. Nurses with a gurney were coming through the sliding glass doors as he arrived, and before he could shift the gear to park were opening the back door and gently pulling Ellery from the 4x4. 

“Strawberries. He ate strawberries. Nearly a full pastry’s worth. Must’ve been mixed in with the chocolate,” Alec explained as he came round the front of the car. The fear he felt as Alec had been pushed aside, and 006 was in full control. Had to be. His asset, his most important asset, was at risk.

He passed the used Epi-pen to the closest nurse. “Used this. Know you need to know the dosage.”

“Excellent,” the man said, sliding it into the pocket of his scrubs before securing the railing on the gurney. Ellery roused somewhat as he was jostled along back through the doors and directly into the Emergency Room.

“‘lec?” he looked around with eyes glazed not by his other world but from the attack of his body on itself. “‘lec?!” 

Alec gripped the hand that had started flailing about, desperate to find him. “I’m here, Ellery. Not going anywhere.” He glared at the doctor who approached, daring her to make him a liar.

“Settle down, Kildale. Not about to have you tear apart my waiting room again,” Dr. Webb said. “Keep out of the way, answer my questions, and you can stay.” She turned to her nurses then, barking out her orders.

Alec nodded, kissed Ellery’s hand, and slid back out of the way, making sure to stay where El could see him. 

It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	72. Unexpected News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ...
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but you'll have to wait until Friday to find out what happens to Ellery.
> 
> Yes, we are mean. Love you all! 💕💕
> 
> And by our (very) loose timeline, this chapter takes place around mid/late July-ish.

Breathe in ...

Bond sat down across from Bill Tanner’s desk in a quiet, nondescript office just down the hallway from M’s sanctuary. Tanner had opened the credenza on the far wall and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of whisky. Macallan... of course.

Mallory and Moneypenny were in Berlin meeting with M’s counterparts from the BND, the DGSE, and the CIA. Would be gone for four days.

Breathe out ...

Good. 

He wouldn’t have to share Leiter’s photos with M. Wouldn’t have to explain why he was _really_ at Six.

“I just need to speak with Q. Nothing more, Bill.”

Tanner sat down in his chair and pushed a glass Bond’s direction. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Bond.” Tanner took a sip of his drink, savouring it before swallowing. 

Breathe in... 

Breathe out...

“Anything is possible, Bill. Just a few moments. Call it a small consideration for an old employee... and friend.” Bond realised he was turning on the 00 charm. And though ineffectual on Tanner, he can’t quite stop it. Force of habit. 

“Bond... James... you don’t seem to understand. Q isn’t _here_ and hasn’t been for over eight months now. He’s no longer on active duty.” 

Breathe in... 

“What do you mean ‘no longer on active duty’. Did Q retire? Quit? He would never do either.” Bond straightened in his chair. “What’s happened, Bill?!” Was he too late? Had someone already got to the Quartermaster, and MI6 was keeping the news secret within their walls.

Breathe out... 

“You left us quite a bit of bother when you decided to ride off into the sunset with Dr. Swann. Nine Eyes needed dismantling. Spectre agents needed to be rooted out of the agencies. Not to mention the fall out from C’s treachery and, of course, Blofeld to deal with.” Tanner sipped his drink again, trying to maintain a calm exterior, but he was struggling. He was angry. Very angry. With Bond, yes, but there seemed to be other triggers too Bond couldn’t quite put a finger on. 

“You think we were bothered with hearings, committees, and oversight before all this shite? You have no idea what came afterward, Bond.”

“Bill, just tell...”

“Don’t interrupt me, Bond! For once in your life just fucking listen!” Tanner leaned across the desk taking a hard stance with Bond. “You left. Our senior agent who had the most experience and background knowledge of Spectre. Just gone. With nothing but an ‘Oh, beg pardon, Quartermaster, can I borrow the car?’ Leaving others to pick up the pieces and carry on. Do you even have an inkling as to the pressure the Quartermaster was under after you left?”

Breathe in... 

Bond remained silent. What could he say? Of course, he didn’t know.

“After all the initial shite settled, M called all agents back in from the field,” Tanner explained. “Time to regroup. Reassessment. He even called 006 back in from his assignment. Trevelyan hadn’t been on home soil in two years.”

Tanner gestured at a very thick file on the corner of his desk. “And Q... well let’s say he worked himself into a situation trying to clean up our mess. Took no consideration for his own well being, and the day 006 arrived back, the Quartermaster fell apart. A complete break in Q-Branch. Luckily 006 was there to intervene.”

Breathe out...

“Bill, I had no idea ...”

“No. You wouldn’t, would you?” Tanner took up his tablet from the desk. With a few finger strokes and pokes, he pulled up security footage, pushing the tablet towards Bond as he hit play on the video. 

Breathe in...

Bond had seen and done it all. More than once. There was nothing that could phase him. Nothing that could penetrate his core anymore.

Until this.

Suddenly, Bond couldn’t breathe at all.

It was horrifying.

The agonising, lost, painful cut to Q’s voice.

The fear in R’s

The contained, seemingly loose tension in Trevelyan’s frame. The casual, nonchalance of his words as he moved closer to the Quartermaster.

The flurry of motion.

The screams.

Q’s sobs.

This … this wasn’t _right_ . Q was one of the strongest people Bond had ever known. Always there with a supportive, sarcastic quip, the way out of any situation, the way _in_ to any situation. 

Resilient.

Stalwart.

Trustworthy.

There.

“So now you know,” Bill said. He tossed the tablet on the corner of his desk and sat back in his chair, glaring at Bond over the rim of his glass. 

Judging him.

Breathe in...

It was ragged.

These weren’t marks or targets or enemies whose fear and pleadings were little more than background noise to him. These were people he knew. 

Friends? 

Friends. It was … different. It mattered.

He was surprised by how much.

“Can I see him?” Bond looked up from his hands that hung loosely between his legs.

“No.”

It wasn’t just about the possible threat against Q anymore. There were things ...

“Bill, I need to...”

Tanner shook his head. The look on his face, grim. “He’s gone, James. We don’t know where he is. He or Trevelyan. Alec scarpered off with Q in the middle of the night a few weeks after it happened. Took him right out from Medical’s nose. We don’t know where they are.”

Bond straightened in his chair. There was so much more going on here than was indicated on the video he’d been shown.

Breathe out...

“Tell me everything.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	73. Primary Focus, Secondary Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s always the risk of a biphasic reaction."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad this edit was finished up earlier in the week, otherwise, I don't know that I would have had the energy to get it up today.
> 
> I'll just say this. School started, yesterday. Fully remote learning is trippy, my friends. 
> 
> Boffin and I do hope you like this chapter. It was another challenging week and we hope you'll help us replenish our depleted spoons with your comments. Thank you, dear readers. Enjoy your weekend, too! 💕💕

Alec stood back as the emergency room staff bustled around Ellery with precise, efficient moves. Dr. Webb kept a calming tone when speaking with Ellery, trying to keep him from panicking as he struggled to breathe. Alec’s Double-O instincts pushed him to remain right at the Quartermaster’s side, but they also told him that the best plan of action was to stay out of the way of the hospital staff and allow them to treat their patient. 

It was those same instincts that had him chomping down on a handful of the antacid tablets that Grace had given him when the pain in his chest began to flare once more. His focus needed to be on the asset.  _ His  _ asset, not on himself. Asset: blue-tinged skin, breathing rapid… panting. Wheezing. Hives appearing. Webb noting a weak and rapid pulse. 

Alec wanted to snarl “do something for him!” 006, however, held his comments back. Both Alec Trevelyans answered every question posed by the doctors -- Ellery’s history with the allergy, how he came in contact with the strawberries, the dosage of the epi-pen (though they had the bloody syringe on the table), which thigh Alec injected it into -- and translated every catted response El tried to provide his physician. 

It took some time to stabilise Ellery. An oxygen mask covered El’s mouth and nose, something called a bronchodilator was administered along with antihistamines and more epinephrine, but finally, Ellery no longer laboured for every breath, the hives didn’t look quite so raw, and he pinked up again. The doctor went off to do whatever it is doctors did once the immediate crisis was over, leaving her nurse behind to do what he did best.

“Doctor Webb wants him under observation for several more hours,” Jayson said. He had removed the oxygen mask and replaced it with a nasal cannulae that fed Ellery oxygen from the system hidden in the wall behind his head. Adjusting the tubing around Ellery’s ears, he snugged it up beneath El’s chin. Secure but not so tight as to be uncomfortable. “There’s always the risk of a biphasic reaction -- symptoms appear again after a few hours -- especially with an initial response as severe as this one, but we’ll keep a close eye on him. Be ready if something pops up. If nothing does, you’ll be cleared to go home in four or five hours.”

“Can I …” Alec gestured at the bed where Ellery had fallen into an exhausted but restless sleep. 

Jayson nodded. “Gimme a minute, though. I’ll get him a warm blanket. He’s still a bit chilled. Then feel free to climb on in. It won’t hurt him. Just watch you don’t tangle up the lines.” He checked one last thing on the monitors, then disappeared out of the cubicle and down the corridor. 

Alec waited patiently until Jayson had Ellery all tucked in with a warmed blanket and had left the room before he approached El who dosed fitfully in the hospital bed. Reaching out to the pale, drawn face, he tucked a lock of unruly hair back behind his ear and gently kissed his forehead. 

“Ellery….” Alec sighed, carefully moving him over in the bed a tad, trying not to tangle the wires and tubing attached to him, before crawling in beside him. Ellery curled into him instinctively, seeking Alec’s special brand of warmth. 

“You need to be more careful, El,” Alec whispered into the dark curls tucked under his chin. “You just can’t go grazing in the grocery like that. Too much unknown.”

“Cat…. ‘lec…” Ellery murmured.

“Yeah I know, El. It's alright. You’re going to be fine, and we can head home soon.” Alec pulled him in as close as he could considering the circumstances. “You… you scared the bloody shite out of me, Ellery. Let’s not do this again.”

The two of them lay there curled up together silently, waiting to go home, until they both dosed off. 

And that is how Grace found them sometime later.

She tapped the bottom of Alec’s work boot with her knuckle and took a step back. She knew how to wake a sleeping dragon protective of his horde. He stiffened. The hand not trapped beneath Ellery’s body reached for the weapon she knew he kept holstered at the small of his back.

“Relax. It’s me.” She pitched her voice low to keep from waking Ellery. The hand retreated and returned to settle on El’s hip. Alec opened his eyes. Someone had dimmed the lights in the cubicle. He looked at the readings on the monitor. Apparently comfortable with what he saw, he finally turned his attention to Grace.

“Not quite the afternoon we’d planned.” He nodded at the man sleeping in his arms.

“Mason called me after he alerted the hospital. Been out there a couple hours now, but they’ve been good about keeping me updated.” Grace rested her hand gently on top of Ellery’s foot beneath the blanket. “The pastry came from the in-house bakery. The entire batch was mislabeled as chocolate- _ cherry _ .”

“Christ! Damn near killed him with that mistake.” There would definitely be a conversation with the store manager once Alec knew Ellery was recovered. He was about to say as much, but the discomfort in his chest flared anew, and he rubbed at it instead. 

“Is that still bothering you?” Grace demanded. 

“Stop looking at me like I’m the patient in this bed and not him. I’m fine. Probably just need to eat something. Stomach has nothing to chew on except me.”

“Let me find out how much longer they want to observe him. If I need to, I’ll grab you something from the cafeteria downstairs. Fairly good for hospital food.” Grace twitched the cuff of his jeans and disappeared in search of a nurse. She returned a tad later with a sandwich and soda for Alec who had dosed off again, still wrapped around Ellery. 

Grace cautiously tapped his foot again. Stepping back from the bed, she waggled the sandwich and soda where Alec could see it. “Thought the carbonation might help settle your indigestion and heartburn. 

“Thanks,” Alec slowly and carefully worked his way out from the octopus grasp of Ellery and slid out of the bed. Ellery stirred briefly but snuggled down and dosed back off once more. 

They each pulled up a hard, plastic hospital chair towards Ellery’s bed and sat. 

“Jayson said they wanted to watch him at least another hour and if there are no further symptoms and readings are improving, they’ll let you take him home,” Grace commented, much to Alec’s relief. He needed Ellery home at the cabin where he knew they were on safe ground, Double-O protectiveness kicking in. “Webb wants to see him in a day or two just as a follow-up.”

They both sat in silence for a long time whilst Alec ate his sandwich, when he’d finished, Alec broke it. 

“I didn’t realise it would be so extreme. Scared the shite out of me. Thought he was.... this happened to you before, too?” He turned to Grace who nodded. “Thank you so much for giving me your extra epi-pen. Making me carry it. It let me get him here.”

“Don’t leave here without Webb writing a prescription for them,” she told him. “You’ll be paying out of pocket but get several: one for the cabin, the barn, his computer bag, you keep carrying one, and of course I have mine at the shop if it’s needed. They’re pricey, but-”

“It’s his life. I’ll pay whatever’s necessary to take care of him.”

Grace nodded with her chin at the soda he held in his hand. “And what about you? You need to see a doctor about your heartburn.”

Alec shook his head and drained the rest of his drink, leaning over to toss the can in the small recycling bin. “It’s just indigestion. The food helped. I’ll be fine.”

“It can be a symptom of a more serious issue, Alec. You may be more fit than most men half your age, but that doesn’t always mean everything. And you’ve told me more than once about your skill at dodging the doctors in Six’s Medical. You probably don’t even remember the last time you had a full physical.”

“And you would be wrong! I remember  _ exactly _ when it was,” Alec said, self-satisfaction large on his face. “Before I last left London on assignment. Required before we go out and when we come back in, but everyone was a tad more focused on Q when I returned this time, so no intake physical.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You were off home soil for _two_ _years_ , Alec!”

“Two years, three months, and nine days.” He ticked off the last number on his fingers and waggled them at her, clearly proud of himself.

“Forty-five-year-old man-child, that’s what you are.” She didn’t even bother to mutter it under her breath, but her next words were pointed. “You’re seeing a doctor, Alec. It’s a matter of who makes the call, you or-”

Grace’s ultimatum was interrupted by a rousing Ellery and the simultaneous arrival of Dr. Webb.

“Alec? Cat?”

“Mr. Kildale.”

“We’ll talk more about this later,” Grace warned him. She poked Alec sharply in the arm with her index finger to emphasise the point, but in the bustle created by a more lucid Ellery and the efforts to get them all off home, they never did get around to it. 


	74. What Lurks Beneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ...
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really not so much about Bond learning deep breathing exercises as it is that his life is fundamentally lacking in personal purpose, I think. Breathing's as good as it gets for him, right now.
> 
> Anyhoo ... enough of the deep, philosophical ramblings of an exhausted teacher. We hope you enjoy this chapter! Always so glad to have each of you along for this crazy ride! 💕💕💕

Bond’s long chat with Tanner ended when the man received a call from Personnel that needed tending to. Bond let himself out, mouthing to Tanner that he would touch base with him the next day. 

The pass clipped to his lapel allowed Bond a surprising amount of freedom, considering, so he made his way to the lifts that would let him out in the winding tunnels that led to Q-Branch. He wanted to talk with R. Tanner had recounted what some would consider an outlandish story regarding Q’s abduction from Medical, but knowing Alec was involved, it really wasn’t that much of a leap. But there was more going on that Tanner  _ wasn’t  _ saying. Things he’d only hinted at because he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, say anything about them to Bond, and Bond hoped Q’s second would fill in the blanks around Tanner’s aborted statements about Medical and Psych 

He needed more intel. 

Bond was halfway to Q-Branch when he suddenly found himself slammed face-first into a brick wall. Right arm yanked, twisted behind his back. He’d been so lost in thought he didn’t see it coming at all. Hadn’t expected to be attacked  _ here  _ of all places. Given the gun muzzle pressed firmly in his side, perhaps he should have been.

Breathe in...

“What are you doing here? How  _ dare  _ you show your face again?” a familiar voice growled.

“Nice to see you too, Scarlett. I see your manners haven’t improved in the last two years.” Bond jerked his shoulders to try to shift out of her grasp, but Papava had a strength that belied her slim frame. He could escape, of course, he could, but it would be messy, and there was no guarantee which of them would be left standing at the end of it. Double-Os, after all.

Breathe out...

“Manners?!” She yanked harder on his arm, and he hissed in pain. “Of all the bloody cheek!” Muzzle pressed now behind his left ear, Bond stilled altogether. He’d taken the roundabout way to Q-Branch, a corridor far less travelled, one that still apparently had blind spots in the CCTV coverage. One wrong move and he’d be food for the rats that hid in the dark, dank corners.

“If you wanted to have a private chat, all you had to do was ask. There are far more scenic loc-” 

“Unlike some, I still have a few shreds of self-respect left,” she said softly, dragging the gun across the back of his skull from one ear to the next like a lover’s caress. Scarlett always grew affectionate before striking to kill. Bond knew this did not mean good things for his life expectancy. 

“Then what-”

“Might as well have been your hand that pressed the gun to his temple.” Scarlett drilled the muzzle in at his, a sickly serious parody of what Bond had seen on the video footage, not an hour before. “Q gave us everything. Gave  _ you  _ more. You were his favourite. Trusted you. You betrayed him. And he destroyed himself trying to piece back together everything you laid waste to so you could ride off into the sunset with a woman you’re probably not even with anymore.”

Breathe in...

Bond hesitated a moment before trying to reason with Scarlett. She was as unpredictable as Alec at times. “I know my leaving wasn’t the wisest choice at the time, so many things left...”

“That is such an understatement and even more shite, Bond.” At least she had inched the gun away from his head a little. “What are you doing here, Bond? What’s your game?”

“I just want to talk to Q. Nothing more, Scarlett. I have some information he needs.”

“Well that’s not going to happen now is it. Q’s gone. Q’s not coming back. And there are a lot of us around here who are not very happy about that fact!” She gave him a shove back up against the wall again. 

“You don’t know that, Scarlett. Q would never abandon MI6. Not permanently. That’s not him.”

“He’s not coming back, Bond. He’s not capable of the job anymore. He’s broken. You and Mallory saw to that.” And it suddenly occurred to him that Scarlett seemed to have a great many details about the situation. Certainly, more than he did. 

Intel. 

Breathe out...

“What do you mean broken? What do you know? You’ve seen him?” Maybe he didn’t need to speak to R after all.

Papava spun him around, forearm at his throat, gun to his belly. “No one has seen him since Trevelyan spirited him out of here nine months ago.” 

Though unpredictable in her actions, she was strangely the most level-headed among the Double-Os. Not saying much given they were all, in essence, license serial killers, but he couldn’t say that he had ever seen her so angry before. He recognised the look in her eyes, however. He’d seen it in his own eyes after Vesper. After M. This situation with the Quartermaster, it was personal.

“But you  _ do  _ know something.” His shoulder ached from her abuse, but Bond kept both hands purposefully at his side. Scarlett wasn’t the enemy, but he had to make her see that neither was he. He could be patient. He had to be patient. “Tell me what you know.”

“This whole mess is your fault, Bond. Why the fuck should I tell you a damn thing?”

He lowered his voice and his defenses. Let her see the truth of what he was saying in his eyes. “Because someone’s after Q. And if Alec’s with him, they’re  _ both  _ in danger and don’t know a bloody thing about it.”

Scarlet’s arm pressed tightly against his throat again and held. 

He felt his airway constrict. 

Patience.

Her green eyes narrowed. Jaw clenched.

The edges of his vision began to spark from lack of oxygen.

Patience.

The sound of his heartbeat was a muffled pounding in his ears.

Patience.

Scarlet grunted. The arm disappeared from his throat. 

Breathe in!

Papava took a step back and stowed her weapon in its holster beneath her jacket. She stared at him a moment longer before she spun on her heel and barked, “Come with me.”

Bond straightened his tie, shot his cuffs, and followed her down the dark corridor.

Breathe out...


	75. Soup Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ellery,” Grace asked after a moment, “would you answer a question for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! Chapter 75?! Who'da thunk?!
> 
> Crazy thing is, there's still plenty of plot to go. Thank you all for sticking with us on this epic tale. One thing Boffin and I have in common is that we each struggle with writing short things. Putting the two of us on a fic together, well, it was bound to be LONNNNNNNNNNNNG!
> 
> I think we're proving that out ... 
> 
> We hope you enjoy this update! 💕💕💕💕

“Drink this.” 

Ellery was sat on the edge of the bed, and Grace wrapped his hands -- still a tad cold and stiff from the shock and strain to his system -- around the steaming mug of broth, keeping hers folded over his until she knew he had it securely. She’d called in an order to the grocery whilst waiting in the ER for news on Ellery, and her goods along with all the items Alec had left abandoned in his cart were waiting on the front porch when they arrived back at the cabin. Alec had ignored Ellery’s catted protests that he was perfectly capable of climbing the stairs on his own and carried him up to bed whilst Grace sorted through the groceries in the bags and cooler and started making soup.

Ellery took a sip and hummed in surprise.

“It’s miso,” Grace said. “I’ve been through this three times myself, and the only thing that made me start to feel settled … connected back to my body afterward was miso soup. Don’t know why. Don’t even know if it will have the same effect on you, but-”

“Cat.” El’s voice was tired, but it was clear he thought the soup was exactly what was needed. He held the mug out away from his body, shuffled his bum up the mattress, and settled back against the pillows. He sighed then sipped again. Grace covered him with the duvet, and he nodded his head at Alec who was sat in the chair he had pulled up to the side of the bed. The same chair he always used whilst keeping vigil over Ellery. Elbow on the armrest, his head was propped up on his hand, but he was sound asleep and snoring lightly. “Alec?”

“He’ll be fine, too,” Grace assured him. She sat on the edge of the mattress. “You’ve quite worn him out, I fear.”

Ellery’s fierce blush was offset by a wicked grin.

“ _Not_ what I meant, though I imagine that’s the case, too, you naughty man,” Grace chuckled softly before turning serious again. “You scared him, Ellery. And me. You know you have to be more careful now.” 

He catted once as a firm promise to do just that. 

“Ellery,” she asked after a moment, “would you answer a question for me?”

He swallowed a mouthful of soup and nodded.

“When you’re lucid and fully in this world, do you feel you need to make up for lost time? Compensate for the time you spend away?” 

Ellery’s attention darted to the sleeping Alec, considering. He tugged at his hair then looked into the bowl of the mug, sipped, swallowed, and sat the cup in his lap, hands wrapped around it like a lifeline. Finally, he met her gaze with sad eyes.

He nodded again. “Cat, Grace. Alec.”

“It’s alright, Ellery.” Grace placed her hand on his foot covered by the duvet. “I think I understand how it would make you feel. The need to _not_ miss things.” His brow wrinkled and the face he pulled said all he could not. “You’re a brilliant man, and it takes its toll on you, not being here, I imagine. I think we forget about that sometimes. I just wish I understood _why_ you go.” 

“Cat...” Ellery sighed and finished his soup, frustrated at the many disconnected words in his head he was no longer capable of communicating. 

Their conversation was interrupted by Alec snorting and snoring, rearranging himself in the chair, head flopping against its back. 

“I think someone else needs a solid night’s sleep just as much as you do.” Grace laughed. Ellery reached over and gave Alec’s knee a shake, bringing him immediately awake, straightening in the chair and alert. 

“Bed Alec,” Grace took the empty mug from Ellery. “Ellery’s been fed, and you both need sleep. Been a rough day all around, I think.”

“I’m fine,”’ was of course his immediate response as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“It sure as Hell wasn't Ellery or me snoring loud enough to be heard across the lake,” Grace chided him. “And besides, I’m sure Ellery would appreciate someone to curl up with.”

From there, it took little effort to wrestle the former Double-O into bed. Barely awake, he stripped to his skin -- Grace didn’t care -- and was soon cuddled up with a willing Ellery in his arms. 

“I’ll be in the guest room,” Grace turned down the lamp on the bedside table, leaving just enough light to keep from stubbing a toe during a trip to the loo. “If you feel the least bit off, you wake Alec. Don’t second guess it. Just do it.”

Ellery nodded against Alec’s neck, snuggled in closer, and was soon fast asleep.

  
  
  
  
  



	76. A Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett laughed bitterly. “Sefa would shoot you on sight for what you did to Q. Wouldn’t bother with questions or your weak excuses,” Papava said of Six’s publican.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay with this update. The weekend was a tad challenging for me, and I needed to get into the proper headspace to make the needed edits. There were a few of you concerned whether or not we were okay and contacted us to make sure. I can't tell you how much it means that you are looking out for Boffin's and my well-being. Thank you, loves. We really do have the best readers! Hugs to the whole lot of you! 😍😍🥰🥰💕💕 
> 
> And now to the update ...

Breathe in …

Breathe out ...

“It’s in a CCTV blind spot,” Scarlett said of the tiny pub deep in Lambeth. They sat in a snug in the back corner, whiskies in front of them still untouched. 

It was dark, and quiet, and largely empty. Very much not The Hole and Corner, the Six-sponsored pub where agents and other SIS employees could rest and talk freely without worrying about who might be listening. He said as much.

Scarlett laughed bitterly. “Sefa would shoot you on sight for what you did to Q. Wouldn’t bother with questions or your weak excuses,” Papava said of Six’s publican. 

Breathe in ...

“Thank you for your restraint.”

Scarlett placed her Sig on the table, muzzle pointed at him, and concealed it beneath a serviette. Her hand rested lightly on top. “That’s still a matter of some debate, and entirely dependent on what you tell me about the threat to The Quartermaster.” 

Bond thought for a moment. The information he held was critical... Just as critical as finding Q. And Scarlett... of all the 00 agents, besides Alec, she was the one he trusted the most. 

Breathe out ...

And so with a nod, Bond began to lay out his entire story: what his life had become whilst away; Felix appearing out of nowhere and the information he passed on, not wanting it to become open to other agencies yet; his friend’s unfortunate, unexpected murder; and Bond’s venture back to MI6. 

Finally, he reached into his inner coat pocket, pulling out the photos Felix had left with him, fanning them out in front of her. Lastly, he slid the one of Q across the table towards Papava. 

“It’s him. Much younger, but it’s him or his twin which I’m pretty sure there isn’t.” Scarlett picked up the photo studying it intently. 

“Now do you understand why I need to find him? The immediacy of it?” Scarlett quietly removed her gun from the table, slipping it back into the holster under her jacket. 

“Scarlett. He’s in danger. I need to warn him. I owe....”

“We don’t know where they are.” Scarlett sighed and leaned back in her chair. “No one has really known where they are since Trevelyan ran with him. He contacted Moneypenny on a burner phone. And when M pushed. Alec went completely dark with Q. “

“But I can tell you this,” Scarlett leaned forward, picking up the photo once more. She spun the image in her nimble fingers. “If they’re wanting him for his Quartermaster talents, that’s going to be difficult. The Quartermaster doesn’t really exist anymore. That person is no longer there. “

“How do you know?” And then it dawned on him. “You’ve seen him! Tell me, Scarlett. What’s happened to him?”

Breathe in ... 

“I only saw him on video chat a few months ago. Bond … he’s …” Scarlett sighed and shook her head. It was clear that the memory of what she had seen still bothered her. 

“He’s  _ what _ ?” Bond risked reaching for her hand across the table, and to his surprise, Papava did not pull away. “ _ Tell _ me.”

“His skill is still there. Clearly. Hacked into Six’s communication systems like the firewalls were made of tissue paper, but he was barely lucid and practically non-verbal. Only had one word at his disposal.” She chuckled bitterly. “The man who could talk your ear off about the elegance of the firing pin in a Sig Sauer can now say only ‘cat’.”

“Cat?” Bond jerked his head in surprise then narrowed his eyes. “Explain.” 

Papava squeezed his hand once and withdrew it. She took a sip of her drink, settled into her chair, and told him everything she knew. From what happened on her mission that ultimately triggered Q’s break to Osler and Mallory insensitivity about it. She shared her observations from the video conference call. How both Alec and Q had acted and interacted with them and with each other. Scarlett told him about the American woman, a doctor, and the psychiatric help she had given Q before Alec ran off with him again to parts unknown to keep him from Mallory’s control. She then went on in specific detail about the aftermath of that call and Mallory’s clear obsession over the Quartermaster and the almost Rasputinesque hold Galen Osler seemed to have over the SIS chief.

Bond had thought there was nothing else in this life that could shock or surprise him. Papava’s story did both.

“But it’s clear Trevelyan is in full ‘protect the asset’ mode, and more so. I’ve never seen him like that. Ever!” Scarlett continued. “There is no doubt in my mind he would do anything within his power to protect Q. Even from us.” She gestured between the two of them.

“You make it sound like you’re going with me.” Bond eyes met hers. “All I am looking for from you is information, Scarlett. Nothing more.”

“You’re not leaving me out of this Bond. We owe Q, the 00s.  _ I _ owe him.” Scarlett’s gaze met Bond’s, challenging him. “Q is vulnerable. If he’s in danger like you think he is, Trevelyan is going to need backup, and I intended to be just that. Mallory can go fuck himself!” she hissed.

Scarlett continued telling him about how when pushed by Mallory during their last conversation Q fell apart and Trevelyan quickly removed him from their view. How there seemed to be others there with him, assisting with Q, though no one got a good look at them. Bond and Papava both knew that Alec  _ didn’t  _ trust people, at least not easily, but if he was relying on them to help with the Quartermaster … 

Bond listened all the while, thinking how he  _ so  _ didn’t want to take Papava along. He worked alone. He was at his best working alone. And this was Alec. The best among them at staying hidden. Blending in. Disappearing. But, if Q was in as much danger as he feared he was, Scarlett might be a needed addition. 

“How about a compromise?” He rolled his eyes at Scarlett’s snort of disbelief.

“ _ You _ ? A compromise. Pull the other one, Bond.” 

“No. Hear me out.” This time she was the one to roll her eyes, but she settled in with her drink and seemed willing to listen. She was right, of course. He didn’t do compromises, and when he did it was usually an act of desperation where he left the other party out in the cold once he had what he needed. Not this time, though. “Give me a couple of days to follow some leads. Find some of Trevelyan’s contacts I know are still out there, and I’ll call you in as soon as I have something.”

“That’s hardly a compromise, Bond,” she growled, and it was a toss-up at that moment as to whether she intended to shoot him or throw her drink in his face. Probably the former. Scarlett would never waste a fine whisky.

“We need to know what Osler’s up to,” he continued. “Something’s clearly not right there, and it could have implications far beyond what’s happened to Q.”

“You think Osler had something to do with his break?”

He shrugged. “The break itself? Hard to know. But from what you told me earlier, I think we have to at least consider the possibility, the  _ probability _ , he intends to do Q harm should the Quartermaster ever return to Six. We need to know what he’s up to. What Mallory’s up to. That obsession … doesn’t sit right. Doesn’t feel like Mallory, but I can’t find these things out anymore. I don’t have access. You do.” 

Scarlett said nothing. Eyed him over the rim of her glass, thinking. Then she tipped the last of her drink down her throat and slammed the glass upside down on the table.

“Medical’s finally going to clear me for return to duty at the end of the week. My injuries from that mission were ... extensive.” Bond had noticed a slight limp in her gait and new scarring along the left side of her neck and on her hand. The entire arm was likely in the same condition but hidden beneath the sleeve of her jacket. Burns. “And they’ve kept me so busy with all the damned therapy I’ve not had a chance to look into things as I’d liked to have done.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Tanner’s still looking for a Double-O to help out with the trainees. I think I’ll apply. Keeps me close and not so busy that I can’t poke my nose into a few things.”

Then her loose limbs shifted, and she snapped forward in her chair, hand slipping inside her jacket to touch her Sig in its holster. A warning. She was again a weapon with a honed edge, and he knew better than to cross her. “Don’t even think about leaving me out of this Bond. There will be nowhere you can hide from me if you do.”

Breathe out ...

“I’ve no intention of leaving you out, Scarlett.”

And the thing is, he meant it.


	77. An Unexpected Harvest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re going to be overrun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another crazy week is coming to an end. We hope that you are all able to find a way to relax this weekend. Find time for yourselves. It's so needed right now. We hope to respond directly to some of your comments soon, but things have been ... yeah, well, you know ...
> 
> Anyhoo, we hope you enjoy this chapter! I got it up on time!!!!
> 
> ::Dassandre does the happy penguin dance:: 🐧🎉🎉🐧 💕💕

Ellery slept off and on for two days after the allergy incident. The whole situation concerned Alec immensely, but he kept reeling himself in, convincing himself that Ellery had bounced back from much worse before. And true to form, it wasn’t long before Alec was having to scold him to put clothes on to work in his garden. 

Alec was just getting out of the shower one morning when he heard Ellery calling his name excitedly from downstairs. Tugging on a pair of jeans over his half-dried legs, he hurried downstairs to see what the commotion was all about, weapon shoved in the back of his waistband. One never knew...

“Alec! Alec!” There in the kitchen, front door left wide open behind them, stood Ellery with Cat. 

He held a wire basket with the first ripe tomatoes from his garden. 

“Alec! Cat... cat!” Barely able to contain his excitement, it was as if he had just solved the most crucial problem facing the known universe. 

Ellery beamed. 

Cat preened. 

And Alec was astounded at how content such a simple thing made him feel. 

Breakfast that morning was a fry-up with Ellery’s tomatoes as the centrepiece. Even Cat ate like the queen she was with small bits of bacon fed to her by both men. 

But those first tomatoes were just the leading edge of an avalanche of fresh produce that descended upon them. The kitchen worktops were soon filled with baskets of green beans, sugar snap peas, carrots, lettuce, and more tomatoes than Alec knew what to do with. Ellery was spending so much time trying to keep up in the garden that he fell behind in his ‘bug work’ -- the hacking/coding contracts he had running with various customers around the world -- so Alec joined El in what he was quickly starting to think of as their own Garden of Eden. He focused on the early harvest so Ellery could tend to the weeding, feeding, and watering.

Falling into the rhythm of picking and placing the vegetables into baskets amidst the natural quiet of their mountain home was one of the most soothing things Alec had ever done. Cat wandered between the two of them, nudging Ellery’s hip at regular intervals at which point he’d drink from his water bottle or batting at Alec’s hand when he reached for a vegetable that wasn’t quite ready yet.

At night whilst El worked on his computer, fulfilling his contracts, Alec surfed online for recipes for their bounty, but he knew it wasn’t going to be enough. They were overwhelmed.

“There’s only so much we can give away,” he said to Ellery at the end of the week, eyeing the overflowing baskets and bins. “With the exception of Bob, everyone we know has a vegetable garden. And this is just the first week. I don’t even want to  _ think  _ about what’s going to happen when those courgettes are ready.” 

Ellery catted a few ideas whilst munching on fresh carrots and cucumbers dipped in ranch. Lucy had introduced him to the very  _ American  _ salad dressing, and El couldn’t get enough of it.

“Well, yeah, that’ll work, but there’s only so much courgette quick bread I can make. Have you seen how many of the things are growing out there?!” He remembered the countless blossoms in the patch a few months ago, and it now seemed the things were growing exponentially. Some of them were going to be huge. Grace had warned them about growing more than two plants, but Ellery had insisted upon full plots of each vegetable. 

Alec sighed. “We’re going to be overrun.”

“Cat, Alec.”

Alec hummed at the idea. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.” Alec opened a new search about canning and pickling, and a companionable quiet settled over the cabin in the woods as the men went about their separate interests. 

“What do you think of this? Would you eat this?” Alec turned the tablet around to show Ellery a recipe for cheesy, courgette casserole that he’d been directed whilst looking at another for courgette pickles. “Why am I even asking? You’ll eat anything,” Alec smirked, teasing him. 

Even Cat -- who had been making a general nuisance of herself wandering from Ellery’s lap to Alec’s, demanding someone scratch her ears -- wasn’t too distracting, but Alec did break down to open up some tinned tuna to occupy her. 

It was oddly a perfect evening.

“Just what have you been working on, because it’s not been helping me find a solution to all this veg.” Alec poked at Ellery when he sat back down after seeing to Cat’s treat. 

Ellery turned his laptop around so Alec could see the screen. Lines and lines of code stared back at him. It made as little sense to him as reading recipes would to Ellery now. 

“You’re... writing code?”

“Cat...” Ellery sighed, disappointed. Alright, let’s try this again, Alec thought. Even after all this time, deciphering Ellery’s catting was still sometimes a challenge. 

“You’re....  _ editing  _ code?”

“Cat! Alec...” 

“Not your code... you’re editing someone  _ else’s  _ code?”

“Cat! Alec...” Ellery smiled.

“And someone  _ pays  _ you to do this? Sounds bloody boring to me. Now, this is  _ not  _ boring!” He turned his tablet around to show Ellery yet another recipe. 

But before he could say anything else about it, an explosion of pain shot through Alec’s chest. His gasp of surprise was followed by a groan that echoed through the kitchen. He tried to stand but his legs buckled, and he fell to his knees next to the table.

“Cat! Alec! Cat!” Ellery jumped up, knocking his chair over in his haste.

But Alec couldn’t hear him. The pain consumed Alec like waves in a storm-tossed sea, pushing him beneath the surface again and again. He couldn’t sense anything but the sharp agony in his chest. His blood rushed in his ears, drowning out the panic and fear in Ellery’s voice. His tongue grew thick with the pain, robbing him of his ability to say anything about what was happening. He could see his hands braced on the floor in front of him, but he couldn’t feel the wood beneath his fingers. 

A partially formed thought entered his mind between the waves that threatened to drown him.

_ So not indigestion, then. _

And then he thought nothing at all.

“Alec! Alec! Cat!” A frantic Ellery dropped to his knees next to Alec. Ellery shook him and getting no response, rolled him over onto his back. 

Alec was silent and still. Ellery was panicked and the world started closing in around him. “Alec...” he pleaded, shaking him by the shoulders. No response but the loose roll of Alec’s head on the wooden boards. Taking a few deep breaths, Ellery forced himself to focus. Be present in the moment. 

Seeking fingers reached out to his neck. Alec had a heartbeat.

A trembling hand pressed to his chest. Alec was breathing. 

But there was something very, very wrong, and Alec needed help.

The Quartermaster lingered in the background, waiting, whispering in Ellery’s ear. 

Ellery dug into the pocket of Alec’s jeans, pulling out his mobile before flopping on the floor and pulling Alec’s prone form into his lap. One arm pulled tightly around Alec’s chest, he pushed a number in Alec’s favourites. 

Bob Gibson was stocking the paint aisle in the hardware store when his mobile rang. “What can I do for you, Alec? And no I don’t need any more produce...”

But there was silence on the other end of the call. Bob listened for a few moments thinking Alec had butt-dialed him again, but there was nothing. 

“Alec? You there?” Still nothing, but the line was open. He thought he heard -- 

“Ellery? Is that you?”

The silence stretched on and then ...

“Cat!! Alec! Agent down!”


	78. A Thank You!

Greeting dear readers!

Lest you panic, this is  **_not_ ** a note to say we’re pausing the story or anything of that sort. This is a good message.

We were looking through the comments you have left during the course of  _ Without Being Told _ . Whether they have been posted here, on Tumblr, or in other locales, Boffin and I continue to be overwhelmed and so bloody appreciative of the support you have shown the story and us. It’s clear that you see us as more than writers. Your concern and appreciation of us as individuals beyond our writing has meant so very much.

That support, however, you have extended to one another, too. You rally together in your comments, boosting each other during the cliffhangers we toss in so often and celebrate with each other Alec and Ellery’s victories.

Some of you have done a deep analysis of chapters, reading, and re-reading to extract the essence of the story and the themes we are trying to convey. It warms the cockles of this literature teacher’s heart.

Others have been inspired by our writing to create fanworks of  _ this  _ fanwork, The art for  _ Without Being Told _ that was shared during 007 Fest -- everything from individual pieces of art to the amazing illustrated cookbook being created -- stunned us in the best possible ways.

The rallying cry of “FUCK YOU, JAMES!” has echoed through the comments and has resonated with so many that there’s talk of a t-shirt being made … something we love and fully support, by the way.

We’ve pulled in readers from other fandoms who, on the surface, seem to have little previous connection to the 00Q fandom and have become avid fans of this story.

We’ve managed to convert diehard James/Q shippers into Alec/Q shippers. None of us (Boffin and I, included) will ever turn our backs on the James/Q Bloody Big Ship (I have it tattooed on my arm, after all), but we’ve certainly all hopped onto this sloop and are enjoying the turbulent waters Alec and Ellery are experiencing, hoping they’ll find clear skies and calm seas in the days ahead.

I guess what it all boils down to is that somehow, in ways that Boffin and I  **_never_ ** anticipated,  _ Without Being Told  _ has created a community of readers invested not only in the story but in each other.

We don’t know if this would have happened had we started posting before things went so completely pear-shaped. Would this community have come together had COVID-19 not changed everything? We’ll probably never know, and quite frankly, I don’t think it matters. We  **_are_ ** here,  **_in_ ** this day and age, in a world that’s been tipped on its axis, and we are here together. Together we are finding solace and comfort in the trials and tribulations of a broken Double-O and his catting Quartermaster as they begin to heal and learn to love one another.

And maybe that’s what this is all about.

Healing and love.  


  
  
All our best,  
  
Boffin and Dassandre

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	79. Agent Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bob was in his truck speeding toward the secluded cabin past Miller’s Crossing ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> You're all fabulous! Based on Ch 78, you all know how we feel about you. Adore you to bits! 💕💕 
> 
> Here's what you've been waiting for ... well, most of it, anyway. We hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think. 
> 
> P.S. Since the bulk of this chapter is told from an American character's perspective, we've chosen American English spelling and references.

During his twenty years in the Army, Sergeant First Class Robert Gibson (ret.) had been pinned down by enemy fire more times than he cared to think about, and of those, three battles where it seemed like time itself stood still. An endless loop of chaos, uncertainty, and fear the unknown.

In each situation, the enemy had initially held all the cards: the higher ground or the greater numbers or the element of surprise. Outside of Tikrit, it had been all three. The specter of death had loomed large over his squad that day, taking three of his men before Bob and SPC Ramirez finally managed to outflank the enemy and (thank fuck!) put a quick end to it all. When he stood among the smoke and the ruins and the blood in those heartbeats before normal time kicked him out of the hypo-slow-cum-breakneck timestream of combat, he’d been shocked to discover that the battle had taken only twenty minutes. Twenty of the longest minutes of his life.

Until now.

“Agent down!”

A quick call to the paramedics on the shop's landline, an order for his assistant Gabe to finish closing up the store, and Bob was in his truck speeding toward the secluded cabin past Miller’s Crossing less than two minutes after hearing Ellery's stressed voice utter those words.

“I’m on my way, Ellery,” he said, toggling the cell phone’s speaker and tossing it on the seat beside him. “Called the paramedics, too. They may beat me there.” Bob had the gas pedal floored, grateful he encountered no other traffic on the dark highway that led out to the country road. He risked a quick glance at the phone as if it would connect him further to the man on the other end. “Ellery, talk to me. Try to tell me how he is. What’s happening to Alec?”

Alec had confided in Bob about what happened the night of the shootout at the grocery store. How Ellery had managed to access his inner Quartermaster and his buried words to guide the former Double-O on his impromptu mission to neutralize the gunmen and save Gwen Cisneros. 

Bob prayed he could do it now.

“Agent down. Needs Medd… Medical. Un... unresp... won’t wake.” Bob could tell Ellery was struggling. Pushing himself to find the words

“Ellery, just stay calm. Take your time. Almost there.” Bob tried to reassure him. Calm him. 

“Hhheart err..erratic. Shhha shallow...”

“Shallow what. Ellery?” 

“Breathhh...ing. And I’m ... Q...Q...”

Gravel kicked up from beneath his tires as he rounded the curve on the dirt road up to the cabin. Skidding to a halt at the front of the cabin, Bob threw the truck into park. Not bothering to shut it off, he dashed up the steps and flung open the front door. His eyes immediately took in the scene before him: His two friends on the floor next to the kitchen table, Alec limp and pale in Ellery’s lap, 

But it was the business end of a Sig Sauer pointed directly at him that really got his attention. 

Bob slid to a halt on the wooden floor, hand splayed out at his sides. “Friendly, Ellery! _Friendly_!”

El’s eyes were as steady as the gun in his hand but in them was a look Bob had never seen before: intense, focused purpose. He was more than prepared to defend the stricken agent against anyone who would do him harm. 

As meticulous as Ellery had been in planning and planting and tending his garden, there had always been a fae-like glimmer in his eyes that Bob thought was likely a remnant of those times when he wasn’t always present. There was no trace of the glimmer now. 

This wasn’t Ellery.

This was The _Quartermaster_. 

“ _Friendly_ , Q!” Bob insisted when Q didn’t initially respond. He really didn’t want to get shot; he was pretty sure Q wouldn’t miss.

Q assessed him for a moment, then without comment flipped the gun in his hand, pointing the muzzle toward the ceiling before setting it next to his hip, out of the way but still within reach. 

Bob knelt beside the pair. “What happened?” He stretched Alec’s legs out flat but didn’t try to take his head from Q’s lap. His friend, normally full of vitality and piss and vinegar, looked horrid. Alec’s skin was pale and waxy, the pulse beneath Bob’s fingertips was indeed erratic, and Alec’s breathing was labored and shallow. 

The words came slowly. Almost painfully, but they were suddenly as clear as any cat Bob had heard Ellery speak. “Was fine. Talking recipes. Canning. Too many …” he gestured at the baskets of veg on the counters. “Grunted. Pain. Fell. Won’t wake.” 

The Quartermaster waved a hand toward the door. “Car... can’t get ... too ...” Bob gathered that Alec was too heavy for Ellery to get him to the car. “Don’t drive ...” Q sighed in frustration. 

“You did good, Ellery.”

“Q,” he corrected him

Bob nodded and continued, “The EMTs should be here soon. We’ll get Alec taken care of and to the hospital.” Bob checked his phone to see what time he had placed the call to the paramedics before trying to help settle Alec into a more comfortable position, but Ellery refused to let go of him. It wasn’t two more minutes before a loud banging sounded on the door and a shout of “Paramedics!” was followed by the door opening. 

And in one swift, well-practiced motion the Sig was back in the Quartermaster’s hand and pointed at the “intruders” into their space. 

“Friendlies!” Bob shouted, and the crew stopped immediately just inside the door. Bob yelled twice more at Q to get his attention before the weapon was slowly lowered back to the floor. Again safe but still within Ellery’s ability to grasp quickly.

“Q,” Bob squeezed El’s shoulder and The Quartermaster turned his attention from the paramedics. “You’re going to need to let Alec go so they can look him over.”

Q’s jaw tightened, and he pulled Alec more closely to him. 

“You want him to be okay. These people can get him the help he needs.” Bob started thinking like the soldier he once was. “You know how this works, Quartermaster. If he was injured in the field, what would you do?”

“Extraction. MedEvac.” The clipped words came far more quickly than any Bob had heard him utter since everything started. 

Bob gestured at the EMTs who were still at the door, tense, waiting for the ‘all clear’. “Your agent’s extraction team is here. Let them do their job.”

The Quartermaster wasn’t one to tarry once he made a decision, Bob learned. Q stood abruptly, sliding out from beneath Alec, placing his head gently on the ground. He secured his weapon and handed it to Bob, backed away, and nodded at the paramedics.

“Please. Help him!”


	80. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ...
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just leave this here, shall I? 😈💕💕
> 
> Do let us know what you think, please. It's been a difficult week all around. I do so hate saying that so often, but ... ready for the weekend! 🥰

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“Thank you.” Grace took the paper cup Bob waved in her direction and smiled.

He gestured with the one in his own hand. “You might not thank me once you taste it.” 

Grace sipped and grimaced at the taste. Bob couldn’t help but chuckle at the look of disdain she gave the cup. “Doesn’t matter how many times I tell him that cheap beans are cheap because they’re over-roasted to cover up imperfections, Del still buys them. You can’t un-burn the beans.” She sighed as if personally and professionally offended by what she was drinking but took another sip. 

It was going to be a long night.

Bob sat in the chair across from her. “Glad he’s finally out,” he said of the young man who had fallen asleep on the sofa in the surgical waiting room with his head in Grace’s lap. “Was he still Q or had Ellery returned before he passed out?”

“He was The Quartermaster.” She ran her fingers lightly through his tangled hair, the soothing touch having finally lulled Q to sleep. “Still researching all he could about emergency gallbladder surgery and acute cholecystitis.”

The heart attack they all feared Alec had suffered had not come to pass. Though one of the worst cases the surgeon had ever seen, made more so by Alec ignoring the symptoms for so long, the pre-surgical prognosis had been good.

Bob smiled at the younger man who was curled up into a ball, glasses askew on his face, fingers still tightly gripped around his mobile. “Strange to hear so many words out of him.”

Grace smiled down fondly at Q. “Something of a chatterbox, it seems,” she agreed. Though still limited in comparison to what it had certainly been _before_ , Q’s words and focus had not failed him whilst talking to the doctors and making medical decisions for his unconscious ‘husband.’

“Will he …” Bob gestured lamely with his cup, not quite sure how to phrase what he wanted to say. 

“Still be The Quartermaster when he wakes up?”

“Yeah.”

Grace shook her head. “Hard to say but probably not. Now that the emergency is over, he’ll likely retreat again. How far this time, I don’t know.”

“Like he did after the grocery fiasco?” Bob crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back in his chair.

“Yes.” 

Grace sat her coffee aside and weaselled her way out from underneath Ellery to see if she could find out any information about Alec. Q rolled over and continued dosing restlessly on the sofa, muttering occasionally in his sleep. 

Bob watched the sleeping man before him and thought back to the somber, determined, intense, so-not-Ellery who had silently followed the “extraction team” out the door of the cabin with Alec on their gurney. Bob realized he had entirely underestimated and misjudged this man. The Quartermaster hidden inside the quirky, fae-like Ellery was just as dangerous as his downed agent. 

“He’s an interesting puzzle isn’t he?” Grace placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling Bob from his thoughts. 

“They both are. How did they end up here of all places? What brought them into our lives, Grace?” 

“Fate. Karma. Who knows.” Grace smiled. “But they’re here, and we’re going to do all we can to protect and care for them.” She didn’t need to look at Bob to know he was as committed to that task as she was. “Nothing new from the Nurse’s desk,” she added. “Alec’s still in surgery. Might be a bit yet. They’ll let us know as soon as he’s out.” 

“What _do_ you know about him, Grace?” Bob nodded towards Ellery. 

”You know him, Bob.”

He quickly swallowed his sip of paint-thinner brew. “Not like you do.”

She considered his request. “That I can share?” Though Grace knew Bob would never ask her to break medical confidentiality.

Bob nodded. 

She settled herself in a chair next to the sofa. “He’s brilliant. Funny. Genuine. A bit of snarky shit at times. Has skills unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And he’s a good, equal partner for that obnoxious idiot in surgery who seems to have become your best friend. There was this time he —“ Before she could say anything else, Ellery stirred on the sofa.

“Alec?” Ellery looked about him myopically, hands groping sleepily for his glasses. “Report. Status!” 

Bob shifted from his chair to the table in front of the sofa and handed Q the glasses he was about to crush as he propped himself up on his elbow on the cushion. “Nothing new to report, Q. Grace just checked. Still in surgery. No news is good news.”

Q looked unconvinced but nodded anyway. Yawning behind the back of his hand, he pushed himself fully upright and slid his glasses on. 

Grace handed him a bottle of water she had pulled from the courtesy cooler in the corner. “And you, Q? How do you feel? What’s your status?”

He downed half the bottle in three gulps and pressed the cool plastic to his forehead. Leaning back against the back of the sofa, Q closed his eyes again. “I …” His mouth twitched, tongue peeking out from between his lips for a moment before skimming along the top of his bottom teeth. Testing out the words in his mind and mouth before actually saying anything. “Not me.” He opened his eyes and looked between Grace and Bob. “Not _quite_ me?”

“Not Ellery or not Q?” Grace sat down next to Bob. She was surprised that it was still Q who was with them, and she couldn't help but start to wonder about these two very separate and distinct aspects of the same person, but that was a thought for a different time. There were other concerns just now. She rested her hand on Q’s knee. He placed his atop it.

“Not … quite … either? Both? Confused.” And he looked it.

“You’ve been away for quite some time.”

His smile was a tad grim when he nodded. “Will be again.”

“You can’t know that,” Bob protested. He barely knew this side of the man, but he liked him. He liked listening to him, too. The words had grown more crisp and precise the longer The Quartermaster had been with them, and Bob learned that Q’s accent was somewhat different from Ellery’s and more refined than Alec’s.

Q ran his hand around the top of his head and pressed against his right temple. “All here. Everything. Can’t access.”

“But you’re doing so now,” Bob argued.

The Quartermaster frowned at him, his voice was hard. “Mission. Agent in danger.” 

Q pulled his glasses off, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. A gesture that was so un-Ellery, Bob couldn’t help but stare. It was as if he was seeing an entirely different person, a twin but not quite. 

“Puzzle pieces,” Q gave Grace’s hand another squeeze. “In head. Some missing. Won’t fit.”

“Aren’t they now?” Bob asked quickly. He was so intrigued by this “version” of Ellery/Q. 

“No.” Q closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before he continued thinking through his words. “Mission. Agent....” Growing frustrated at having to reach deeply for words. “Always bring.... Agent home.”

On the ride to the hospital, Bob had wondered if Ellery really would have shot him back at the cabin. The more he listened to the Quartermaster, the more Bob was convinced luck had favored him. 

“It drains you, being Quartermaster,“ Grace observed. He looked weary in spite of his nap. Creases had appeared at the corners of his eyes and there was a notable tension in his jaw she’d never seen there before, not even during his panic in La Sal. 

“Always. Even before. Harder now. Necessary.”

“Can you sleep more?”

Q shook his head. “Okay. Much to do.”

Bob glanced at the waiting room door and the young volunteer at the desk who doled out updates as infrequently as Midas parted with his gold. “Not til Alec’s out of surgery.”

“Not Alec … Grace.”

“What? Me?”

Q struggled to find the words he wanted. He handed her his mobile, and she saw he’d pulled up the voice memo application. “Before it’s … too late. Before I can’t. Must share.”

Grace looked up at him from the phone in her hand. There was a bit of desperation in his eyes now. “Share what?”

He gestured at his head again. “Everything.”


	81. A Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace’s mobile phone sat propped on its kickstand in the centre of the table, capturing the entire exchange on video.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, we hope you enjoy this chapter. We loved writing it. The title is a bit of an Easter Egg. Who gets the reference? 🙂
> 
> Do let us know what you think. 💕💕

Grace and Bob sat with Q at a table in the corner of the surgical waiting room, listening whilst Q quietly shared what he could. Grace’s mobile phone sat propped on its kickstand in the centre of the table, capturing the entire exchange on video. 

Though wanting to impart what had been trapped within him before the opportunity was stolen away again, there was so _much_ that Q didn’t know where to start. Seeing his increasing dismay with what to say first and how, Grace took his hand and guided him as she had done for months by asking questions. As best he could, Q answered them. He explained what he experienced inside his head as Ellery and as Q. What things were like for him when he was ‘here’ as well as when he went elsewhere. He shared the emotions he felt as well as more objective observations so she might evaluate them from a clinical perspective to aid in his treatment. 

“Maybe bring me back? For good?” Q’s tone was at once so forlorn and yearning that Grace dabbed her eyes with her wrist, and Bob tried to convince himself that the swig of water he drank had nothing to do with the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

Grace asked him about Osler and Mallory and their seeming obsession with bringing him back into the MI6 fold, but on the whole, Q couldn’t explain it either. Not beyond what the rest of them had already suggested or speculated on -- all of which he heard and understood with perfect clarity when “I’m here.”

For over two hours Grace asked questions. 

Q answered them. 

And Bob listened, intrigued. 

Sometimes Q struggled to find the exact words he wanted, but except when he spoke of his beloved pet, not a single ‘cat’ was uttered the entire time.

Then came the things Q wanted to pass on to Alec in case Ellery returned before Alec finally woke. Things Q wanted Alec to know. Words Q needed to share. 

And he did.

Then it was time for Bob to dab at _his_ eyes.

Q kept nothing back, conveyed all he could. It was hushed, enlightening, and heartbreaking. The entire experience was intimate in a way that went beyond the personal feelings and words Q had for Alec, it linked the three of them together in a way Bob could not put a name to but knew was life-changing for him … for them.

Eventually, Q’s focus began to waver, his words slower and harder to come by. Grace and Bob shared a look. Q was starting to slip away. It was as though a great hand was reaching out, pulling him back into being Ellery. Then a mechanical woosh drew their attention to the heavy, metal doors of the surgical wing. The nurse who arrived informed them that the surgery had gone well. Alec was out of recovery and was being moved into a room. They could see him once he was settled.

Q jumped to his feet at the news and paced the waiting room. 

“Q. Sit,” Grace gestured at the sofa they’d sat on earlier. “They’ll call us.”

He looked drained, pale and wan, and his gestures and mannerisms were increasingly those of Ellery, not The Quartermaster. He still had his words but they were becoming halted and broken. The one thing that was clear? His increasing fear this might be the last time _Q_ was present and able to speak to Alec as himself. 

“No... can’t sit.” Q continued to pace. “Need... Alec _now_. Have to see him!”

“How about you and I go find some real coffee and maybe when we get back, they’ll have Alec settled,” Bob suggested. “We can stretch and clear our heads a little until then.”

“ _No time!_ ” The volunteer’s head shot up from her book at Q’s shout. Bob, who had been reaching to steer Ellery from the room, pulled his hand back. 

Q dropped to a crouch and wrapped his arms around his head. Grace was at his side a moment later. He looked at her from behind his arms, panicked and lost, and it was like watching a leshy of Slavic mythology transform before her eyes. She could see it on him. 

Christ! Bob thought, echoing one of his friend’s favorite expletives. And in a flash of insight, he fully understood. The emergency was over. His agent had been delivered safely home. No longer needed, Q was retreating. The Quartermaster was signing off.

Q was fighting it, but they really _were_ running out of time. 

“Get him on his feet!” Bob jumped to follow the Admiral’s orders as did the woman behind the volunteer desk when Grace pinned her with a fierce look from across the room. 

“Alec Kildale’s room number, _now_ , Addie, or you’ll never get another apple caramel tart out of me again!”

Grace and Bob rushed Q down the hallway to a room at the far end of the hospital wing. Inside, the room’s lighting was darkened. Monitors glowed softly with their leads hooked to a prone figure on the bed. 

“Alec,” Q was immediately at his side. “Alec... so scared.” 

“Q?” Alec rolled his head toward the voice. Still half sedated, he struggled to wake fully. “Mission complete? This… not medical? What...”

“Alec...” Q took Alec’s hand and leaned in so he could be heard. “Our chats… You... know... I was... before... before we met.”

He turned to Grace, panicked. He was struggling, losing focus rapidly. “I can’t...” Q choked back a sob. 

She took him by the shoulders and eased him down into the chair next to Alec’s bed. “It’s okay. Just sit here with him. I’ll make sure he hears it all. Everything you told us.”

But Q slid out from beneath her hands and pressed as much of himself against Alec as he could given the tubes and wires. He took Alec’s face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. 

“You’re … home, Alec. You’re … mmmy … hhhome.” Each word Q fought to speak roused Alec further from his lethargy. Sensing the urgency and finally understanding what was going on, he shook off the sluggishness of the medication and struggled to budge up in the bed, but two sets of hands — Grace’s and Bob’s — held him fast. 

“Q?” Alec gripped the front of Q’s shirt instead, keeping him close.

“Need to know. So happy … safe … con ...tent,” Q swallowed hard, the words sticking in his throat, “with you. Love …”

Q gasped and reared back. He tore at the hair above his left ear, pressed on the shell of it with his palm, shook his head as though trying to silence whatever it was that was luring him away. 

Alec reached out and cupped the back of Q’s head. “Q, it’s okay. I’m okay. _We_ will be okay.” He pressed a kiss to each of Q’s closed eyelids and brushed Q’s lips with the edge of his thumb. 

Q whimpered at the touch, sighed once, and opened his eyes. Alec pulled back and looked into them. They were green, clear, and vastly different than they had been just a moment ago. 

“Alec …”

Alec held his breath, waiting for his next word. 

“Cat.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	82. Ellery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who is Ellery, Q?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After your responses to the last chapter, Boffin and I had a discussion as to whether or not we should include a tissue warning with each chapter; a scale of zero to five tissues depending on the level of angst that might make you cry. 🧻🧻
> 
> We've decided against it for the time being. We love tormenting you too much. 😈
> 
> Anyhoo, it's hard to believe it's Friday again. This time next week I will be back in the classroom part-time in the afternoons. My mornings will still be spent teaching remotely from home. I've no idea how this is going to go, and I'm a tad bit scared for a variety of reasons, but needs must.
> 
> Without further ado, your Friday update...
> 
> The last section is a bit of a departure from the way we've been telling the story to this point, but we rather like the spin on things. Do let us know what you think. 💕💕

Grace appeared at Alec’s hospital room door. He was sitting up in bed, breakfast in front of him, looking much better than the night before when she and Bob had finally left with an emotionally and physically exhausted Ellery between them. 

“Where’s El?” Was the first thing out of Alec’s mouth. 

“At the cabin. Sleep last night was a bit of a lost cause, to put it mildly. No Six coma, thankfully, but getting him functioning this morning was rough. Dressing an uncooperative, absent Ellery is always a treat as you know.” Grace placed a paper bag on the tray within Alec’s reach. 

“Please tell me that’s something from your shop. I’d forgotten how bad hospital food was.” Alec had just been about to spoon up some pasty-looking, grey porridge when she’d appeared, and his spoon clunked against the plastic bowl, forgotten in his eagerness for something real. 

Alec fussed with the controls of his bed trying to get comfortable. “He was alright, wasn’t he? You’ll bring him later?” Alec quizzed her. 

“Yes, this afternoon. Bob is helping him out in the garden for a while. Thought it would maybe help him settle some. A familiar place. Doing something with his hands.”

“Thank you for staying with him, Grace. Can’t be alone.“ Alec paused, running a hand through his hair. “He was so upset when you left last night. Should have been with him. I _need_ to be there with him.”

Grace set aside the breakfast tray with its porridge, applesauce, and dry toast and pulled a few small containers from the bag on the table, popping off lids and arranging them in front of him. “You will be soon enough. Spoke with your surgeon just now. Expects you’ll be out of here in two days if you behave yourself and stop poking at the nurses like a spoilt child.” 

Alec dug into the eggwhite and veg omelet like a man who hadn’t eaten in weeks. “They’re worse than the ones in Six’s Medical,” he said around a mouthful of egg, “Christ, that’s good … won’t tell me where my clothes are. Arse is cold in this bloody gown.”

“Go slowly with that,” Grace demanded, indicating the food she brought him. “It meets the requirements of your new diet, but if you inhale it like a 14-year-old fresh off of football practice, you’ll be throwing it up instead and risk pulling your sutures. And bullshit about your arse being cold, you just want to escape out of here. Knew you’d probably try, so that’s why I had Bob take the bag with your clothes in it with us last night. Bring you something to wear when you’re _officially_ discharged.” Grace tore off a piece of the fresh, whole grain bread she had baked for him, gesturing with it before she popped it in her mouth. “And don’t look at me like I’ve betrayed you. You need time to heal. You’re not going to be able to take care of Ellery properly if you don’t.”

Alec balanced his fork on the edge of the container and leaned back in bed, breakfast forgotten for bigger concerns. “You didn’t really answer my question, though. How is he?”

Grace lowered herself into the chair at his bedside and rubbed at her temple. Alec noted how she wore exhaustion like a second skin. They’d not made things easy on her, he and Ellery. Not since the day they met, but Grace had never once complained, and Alec wondered what they had done right to find her and keep her in their lives. “He's rattled,” she sighed.

“That’s not a word I ever thought I’d hear describe Q.” It didn’t sit well with Alec.

“Ellery. Not Q. The Quartermaster was as in control of the situation as anyone I’ve ever seen.” Grace went on to describe how, even with his halting vocabulary, Q commanded the attention and compliance of everyone he interacted with from the paramedics who had arrived at the cabin to the surgeon who ultimately operated on Alec’s gallbladder. “Completely polite but brooked no argument. I have it from Jacob that Q even had Phyllis Webb hustling like she hasn’t in the last decade. But he’s not Q anymore. He’s Ellery, and Ellery is-”

She stopped abruptly in her tale though it was clear there was more to say.

“What’s wrong?” Alec demanded.

Grace fiddled with the edge of the pocket of the cardi she wore then pulled out her mobile. “Q … knows, Alec. He’s completely aware of everything that’s happened to him. Every last bit of it.” 

The surge of pain through Alec’s chest this time had nothing to do with his gallbladder. “Christ.”

“He doesn’t know why he can’t speak but a few words except in a crisis situation,” she pulled up an app on her phone and propped it on its kickstand on the table in front of him, “but we talked while he could. He wanted you to know so many things. Asked that I record them.”

Grace got up and stood next to Alec at the head of the bed and pressed play. Though Alec knew that beloved face on the screen better than his own most days, it was slightly different. The micro-expressions that pulled at the edges of his mouth were more contained. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, slightly deeper. The awareness of the green behind the spectacles, keen, alert, and knowing. 

Q.

“You said you wanted to share as much as you could, so let’s start with the question I think we all are curious about. Who is Ellery, Q?” Grace’s voice sounded through the speaker. “Where does he fit into the big picture?” 

“Me. A piece of me. From before Six.” Q sighed and struggled for the words he needed. “No one wants to know him. Want the _Quartermaster_. Not Ellery. Alec did, though. Wanted to know _me_.”

“From your comms chats?”

Q nodded and smiled broadly, clearly thinking back on those memories before everything had gone wrong. But he sobered quickly, sat a bit taller in his seat, and in a halted but determined voice continued to tell Grace about his background. There were a few pieces that Alec had known, but the vast majority of it was new to him. 

“I only... know faces. Photos. Don’t remember,” he said about his parents. Something passed over his face, an emotion Alec’s couldn’t quite read. “On a trip. Left me at Mémère’s. Never came back.”

“So your grandmother raised you?” Grace wanted him to elaborate, and even Alec could tell that this was an important piece to who the Quartermaster was now.

Q nodded. “Was 13. She passed.” He went on to tell Grace in broken sentences how he had been on his own after that. His grandmother had left him some money and her meagre cottage where he fended for himself unbeknownst to anyone else until he was accepted into university. Becoming an adult far too early for his age. 

Then Grace asked the really big question. “Where do you go when you’re away, Q? What lures you there?”

“Sometimes at Mémère’s. Safe there. Sometimes... I’m nowhere. Harder to find way back. Try to stay here. _Want_ to stay. Fail.” He pushed his glasses up and pressed the heels of his palm hard into his eyes, then ran a hand through his thick curls, dishevelling them still further. Reaching for a water, he took two deep draughts, capped the bottle, and turned back toward the camera. Then, as if reading a story to a child, he shared with Grace what he experienced now when he stayed with his Mémère. 

“ _Mémère?...” he asks. “Mémère, where are you?” A hallway... long, dark, never-ending._

_“Here,_ mon petit lutin _. I’m here. Where did you expect me to be?”_

_Warmth of the oven. Heat of the flame beneath the kettle. Scent of flour, yeast, rising bread. Roasted coffee aroma of their favourite dark chocolate._

_Out of the darkness, a floured finger taps his cheek. “Sit. Tea. Then you will help.”_

_Glimpses of a well-used, comfortable kitchen fade in and out. To his left. To his right._

_“Mémère?...”_

_“Ellery?....” A distant voice he thinks he knows whispers in his ear. Deep. Worried. Equally loved. But it doesn’t belong here. Not at Mémère’s._

_“Mémère?...”_

_“They will be home soon,_ mon petit lutin _. And we will have a surprise for them. You can show them what a big help you have been to me.”_

_The kitchen fades in and out once more. To his left. To his right. Lingering longer each time. But the long, dark hallway engulfs him... long, dark, never-ending._

_“Ellery...” the voice in his ear is sad. “Where do you go when you’re not here?” It is closer, he should go to it, but..._

_Mémère needs his help._


	83. Q's Declaration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That pain paled in comparison to what Alec felt hearing Ellery admit he was losing his grip on being the Quartermaster, on being Q.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to thank Boffin for this chapter getting posted on time, even though he's just as buried as I am, possibly more so. He rallied me when I was about ready to a.) permanently curl up in a fetal position, b.) permanently lose my shite, or c.) both ... when it comes to this hybrid learning fiasco. It ain't pretty, friends! 😱🥴
> 
> You have always been so amazing in bouying us in the past with your comments and appreciation for this tale when we particularly need them. It's only Tuesday, and we're going to need them. Yep. Shameless comment request. Hey, I never said I was proud. I know how and when to beg. ::puppy dog eyes:: 🥺💕
> 
> In any event, we hope you like this update. 🥰

Alec stopped the playback on the video Grace had taken of her conversation with Q. This was his second time through on his own, studying and dissecting every word and the tone in which it was said, every gesture and facial expression and their manner and mien. 

The content was revelatory, heartening, and devastating in equal measure.

“I now have a theory about what might have caused all this,” Grace had said after they’d watched the recording for the second time together. “I need to do a bit more research, and I want to contact a former colleague of mine who works at Johns Hopkins. Get her opinion. I don’t want to say anything yet, but … as soon as I have something concrete, you’ll be the first to know.”

Grace left soon after, but not before sending him a copy of the video. “I’ll bring Ellery ‘round about dinnertime. Bring you some dinner, too,” she said with another glare for the remains of his hospital breakfast on the counter.

For his part, Alec didn’t quite know what to make of everything he had seen. It was somewhat comforting to know that Ellery’s other world was truly a safe place for him. His companion, his grandmother whom Ellery clearly loved. It also made his near-immediate attachment to and affection for Miriam Mikelson make much more sense. It pained Alec to know El still needed to retreat there when he felt scared or could no longer cope with the reality around him.

But that pain paled in comparison to what Alec felt hearing Ellery admit he was losing his grip on being the Quartermaster, being Q. How it was becoming a struggle to maintain that aspect of himself and his deep fear that if he did lose hold, Q would never return. 

He hit play again, using this playback to memorise the little nuances that were Q, tucking them away inside his own mind. About an hour in, Alec hit pause. Ellery had just shared with Grace how afraid he’d been when Alec collapsed. Alec rubbed at his face to hear El share again how part of that fear was how alone he’d be if Alec died. 

_I have to take better care of myself_ , Alec admitted, not that he would say as much to Grace. So wouldn’t give her the opportunity for an ‘I told you so’ moment. Though, he would have to talk to Grace about Ellery. They had only half-formed plans about who would care for El if Alec no longer could. Those plans would need to be solidified and back-up ones made, too. He and Ellery would need to talk first, however, once El was more coherent, which -- if the pattern held -- he probably wouldn’t be when Grace brought him back to visit at dinner. 

The video continued on …

“Took chance on me, Alec.” Q spoke directly to the camera as if he could see Alec on the other side of it. Though his words were increasingly halting in this final section, the most important section, his eyes were green and clear and determined. “Even before … this. We connected. You cared. Fell for you. Hard. Wanted …”

Q stopped. Taking a moment to pull himself together rather than the words this time. His eyes were a tad misty when he looked up again, and as he had each of the previous times he’d watched the video, Alec swallowed hard at the lump that had formed in his throat. 

Q gestured at his head. “Not just this. Brought us together. Believe was …”

“Inevitable,” Alec said along with Q, feeling the truth of that word deep in his bones. They’d taken a chance on each other and though things would never be easy, Alec was so bloody grateful they had done. 

Something Alec hadn’t realised had been weighing him down had lifted with Q’s declaration. He couldn’t even put a name to it, but he felt lighter hearing the words said aloud in Q’s voice. Knowing what was in Q’s _and_ Ellery’s heart, in their own words, made all the difference.

“No matter what happens. Know you love me. No matter what happens. Know I love you, Alec.”

And Alec did. 

The video ended there. And with it, Alec’s energy. He pressed his mobile to his chest, letting the memory of Q’s shy, loving smile ease his dreams. 

The rest of Alec’s day was spent being poked and prodded by nurses, physical and occupational therapists, and a nutritionist. He hated every moment of it, growling and snarling at them all as he always had the staff in Medical until they left him the _bloody fuck alone!_

He expected the staff at DGMC to cave quickly in the face of an irritated former Double-O. He had been so wrong. They bore his attitude with a pleasant but fierce stubbornness that, once Alec had a chance to think about it, Six could learn a thing or two about. It was the OT, Emil Cabrera, who finally drove the point home. 

“I’ve seen you and your husband around town a few times and at the Winter Festival. He’s sweet. Younger. And _muy caliente_!”

“Your point?” Alec snarled. Emil was currently showing him the best ways to tend to his personal hygiene until he was fully recovered. 

“Only that you’ll never be able to take care of _that_ man until you can take care of _this_ man!” Emil swirled his wrist, snapped his fingers, and pointed at Alec with a gesture straight out of that _Queer Eye_ show Mele had got them hooked on. 

Alec stopped growling at everyone after that. 

The dinner tray cart was rattling through the corridor when Grace finally returned with the promised dinner and the eagerly anticipated Ellery. They’d never been apart for so long, and it had started to grate on Alec in ways he’d never expected to feel. 

Ellery, too, apparently, for though his fingers had been clutching Grace’s sleeve when he walked in the room, the moment he saw Alec, he climbed carefully into bed with him and pressed his face into the crook of Alec’s neck.

Alec cupped the back of El’s head, pressed his face into his curls, breathed him in, and finally relaxed. “Missed you so much.”

Grace sat a bag down on the tray next to Alec’s bed and began unpacking the dinner she had brought for him. 

“Bob said to tell you he has a much deeper appreciation for your skills after spending most of the day watching after Ellery. Thinks herding cats has got to be easier.”

Alec couldn’t help but laugh which also made him cringe in pain. His incision making it quite clear that such raucous behaviour was not to be borne … yet. 

“As well as for your linguistic prowess at deciphering the multiple meanings ‘Cat’.”

“Cat...” El whispered against Alec’s neck. 

“Be home soon, El. Soon. You need to behave for Grace and Bob for a few more days. Listen to them. Let them help you out until I can get back home.”

“The worst part was convincing him he really needed to shower all the dirt off from the garden to come see you.” Grace arranged the diet-approved finger foods within easy reach. “Figured you’d probably be eating one-handed, tonight.”

Alec nodded his thanks and placed a kiss to the top of Ellery’s still damp curls. “We need to talk when I’m out of here, Grace. About extended care for Ellery, if needed. But now,” he whispered in El’s ear, “now I want to hear all about what I missed in the garden today.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	84. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I spoke with my colleague at Johns Hopkins, and she provided some very interesting information.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We just have to get through Friday, and the weekend can start. We hope you all have an opportunity to find a moment of calm in the next few days. We all need a few extra moments of calm right now.
> 
> Not sure if the content of this chapter will create that calm but perhaps finding the opportunity to read it will. Do let us know what you think.

“You seem to be moving slowly today,” Grace sat the groceries that she had brought with her on the kitchen island as Alec carefully rose from the table to refill his cup of coffee and pour one for Grace.

“Sore. Overdid it a tad yesterday, if moving from the bed to the sofa and back again is overdoing it,” Grace chuckled at the thinly veiled disgust in his tone, “but at least I’m back in my own bed. How in the fuck do they expect you to get any rest in that place when they wake you every hour to take your blood pressure or take you for a walk or jab you with another sodding needle or some such bloody annoying thing?”

“Someone’s grumpy ...” Grace pottered around the kitchen unpacking and putting away the groceries. 

“Worried about him. Seems lost today. Hasn’t once catted since he got out of bed this morn.” Alec stood at the kitchen window. He gestured out it with his cup at Ellery who was in the garden wandering around. Occasionally, he would stop and pull a weed or pick a ripe vegetable, placing it carefully in his basket, but it was very much an aimless progression about the garden. It had been a long time since Ellery had straddled the boundary between his two worlds in quite such a notable way, and seeing it happen now caused a tightening in Alec’s chest that had nothing to do with his surgery. “Seemed to be more focused yesterday. Don’t know what’s happened today.”

Grace came to stand beside him and watched silently, observing Ellery and Cat for a few moments. “Give him some time, Alec,” she finally said. “It took a lot out of him when you were ill.” 

He was far from being the most patient of men, but he’d wait out the next ice age if it meant Ellery was there for him at the end of it. He let his grunt be his reply but looked down at Grace and the bunch of bananas she held in her hands. “The rest of that can wait. There’s something I need to talk to you about.” Alec moved back to the table motioning for Grace to leave the groceries and join him.

Alec braced his hands on the wood and eased himself into his chair. He grimaced at the tug of his stitches. Grace had the right of it. He was grumpy. He was recovering well but not as quickly as he would like. Not as quickly as he had in the past, and it frustrated him. He’d been home a week but he still hurt, he was worried about Ellery, and he honestly felt like he could sleep for a month, but this had to be done before it got away from them again. 

“I need an attorney,” Alec said when she took the chair opposite him. “One I can trust. One I can trust with Ellery.”

“Alista Vang.” Grace didn’t have to think twice about giving him the name. “You want to ensure I’m able to legally care for Ellery in case something happens to you.”

Alec scrubbed his hair. “Should’ve taken care of it months ago. Too close. I never considered I might fall ill. Always thought I’d get killed keeping him safe from Mallory but still should’ve taken care of it. Mallory cannot be allowed to get him back.”

“Alista, then. That woman can spot a loophole at a thousand paces. More importantly, she knows how to close them so they can’t be opened. But, Alec, you might want to consider someone else, too.”

“But you said -”

“Of course I will!” She waved off the look of anger that had started to form on Alec’s face. “You know I’ll be his guardian if it comes to that, he’s like my son, but I’m also 65 years old.”

He could see her point. He could also see her solution to the problem written on her face. “Do you think he’d do it? There’s a difference between what I asked him to do back in La Sal and making it all legal.”

“You didn’t see the impact Q had on Bob the night of your surgery. There’s a connection between them now that didn’t exist before. If he knew you were thinking about this, he’d be knocking on the door to volunteer. He adores Ellery, and it might lay to rest some of the demons he still has over his sister.”

“Bob’s a good man, and El likes him, too. I’ll give him a call. See if he’ll come out to talk tomorrow.” Alec stared into his half-full cup. “Ellery can’t go back to Six, and I need to know he will be watched after. Kept out of their hands.”

“You know we’d do anything for both of you, Alec. Bob and I are already in this waist-deep. I was from the first time you two walked into my shop. Not walking away now.”

“Ta, Grace. Can you make the introductions for me to this Alista? Soon?” Alec stood slowly again, measuring his movements. Going to the window, he watched Ellery again. “I wish he didn’t feel the need to retreat as he does. I hate that he still doesn’t feel safe all the time.”

“I don’t think that’s always the case. Alec...” Grace hesitated. 

Alec turned and scowled at her. “What? I know that look.” God, did he know that look, and it never boded well. “Tell me.”

She got up, pulled a file folder from her bag on the counter, and nodded for Alec to take his seat again. When he was settled, she stood over his shoulder and spread out several documents in front of him. “I spoke with my colleague at Johns Hopkins, and she provided some very interesting and ... unsettling information.” She pulled one of the documents to the top of the scattered pile. “These are the medications Ellery was taking when I started treating him.”

“Too much, you said. The dosages.” Alec scanned the list next to Grace’s finger. He recognised the names along with a second set of meds that Ellery was currently taking. The ones Grace had prescribed him.

“The dosages, yes, but some of the medications themselves were completely inappropriate for Ellery’s situation. It’s why he had such difficulty responding in even the most basic of ways sometimes.” She inhaled in that way she had when she was about to tell Alec something he wasn’t going to like. “It’s not that he didn’t want to engage, it’s that he _couldn’t_.”

Alec’s eyes darted to hers. “Osler would have known this?”

Grace nodded. “Unless MI6 is in the habit of hiring grossly incompetent medical personnel …”

Of _course_ , Osler had known. A deep chill settled in Alec’s gut, but it was inconsequential to the rage that flared through the rest of him. Grace recognised it but for once she did not urge caution.

“It gets worse. I don’t have the full evidence since I don’t have access to the treatment Ellery received in Medical before you snatched him, but, here, look …” She pulled out another document and pointed to a series of medication names Alec had never seen before. “Anne, my colleague, indicated that if any of these drugs were given to him in conjunction with what he was on when you came to me, it could cause an interaction that, if administered long enough, would potentially lock him inside his mind, perhaps permanently.”

“So what are you telling me?” Alec scanned the documents again and played through the scenario he was pretty sure Grace was laying out for him. 

“I think that when Ellery drifts away, he doesn’t always have control over it. Something has happened to his mind on a chemical, neurological level.” Grace met Alec’s cold stare directly. “I need to do some more research, and I can’t give you a conclusive diagnosis without his full medical history, including what happened in Medical, but it is my opinion that the medications we _know_ he was prescribed along with what we can _assume_ he was given are what has caused this duality in him.” 

“Explain,” Alec demanded

Grace thought, making sure to choose her words carefully. “Ellery and Q... it’s not a split personality as you would normally perceive. Both are the same person, the same personality, but something in his mind is broken... missing. The link, the bridge between the two of them, is gone.”

Alec stood from the table, wincing in pain as his chair took a vicious shove across the floor. He went back a third time to the window, the tension obvious in his stance. “Is it fixable?” 

“I’ll need to consult with Anne more on it, but if I am completely understanding what she told me, I don’t think so. The medications have severed that connecting point.”

She snagged a pen from her bag and began drawing a series of random circles on the back of one of the documents. She connected the circles with lines between them, creating a complex web on the paper. She was labelling the circles when Alec’s curiosity finally drew him back to the table. He saw variations of his name in each bubble: Ellery Alec, Q Alec, Grace Alec, Bob Alec, Raven’s Roast Alec, Miriam Alec, Double-O Alec …

“What is this?.”

“You,” Grace said. “Your different personalities and personas. Each of them specifically tailored to who or what you need to be at any given moment. Each of them subtly different and yet all of them _legitimately_ you. Just as I do, you move seamlessly from one persona and personality to another depending on the person you’re with or the situation you find yourself in. The Alec who interacts with Ellery is vastly different from the one who interacts with me.”

“I’d sure as fuck hope so!”

Grace chuckled at the sarcastic interruption before drawing his attention to the lines she’d drawn between Ellery Alec and Double-O Alec. “But think of what would happen if you couldn’t shift easily, or at all, between the man you are with Ellery and your Double-O self?”

Alec didn’t have to think. He knew. He swallowed hard at the memory of the night he’d nearly shot Ellery after waking up from a nightmare in full Double-O mode. It was a memory he’d worked very hard to forget. He cleared his throat. “And this is what’s happened to Ellery?”

Grace’s silent nod was the loudest thing in the room. 

“So either Galen Osler is grossly incompetent …” she started.

Alec felt as if the floor was opening up beneath him as he finished her thought, “Or that bastard did this to Q deliberately.”

  
  
  
  



	85. Bond in Morocco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond sat in a street side cafe in Morocco picking at his kefta tagine. His growing frustration was getting the best of him and food was the last thing on his mind. 
> 
> In the last few weeks he had visited three continents, twelve countries, and seventeen safe houses. 
> 
> No Alec. No Q. 
> 
> No trace of them at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes... we know... late in posting, but sleep wouldn't leave either of us alone last night and hindered posting as usual. 
> 
> Dassandre gets to chat here with you all the time so I decided it was my time to step up. To all our lovely readers, I just want to say ta muchly for staying with us through this journey with Alec and Ellery. Never in my wildest imagination did it ever occur to me that this would turn into such an epic journey and that you would take such interest in the words the muse brings to us. 
> 
> I cannot adequately tell you how much your words and loyalty have meant to me in this utterly bizarre strange world we are living in and how odd it has been working from on in the flat (202 days), and now finally being back at my workstation with my team for Queen & Country is even a stranger world.
> 
> So please stay with us a tad longer and see what the future chapters bring to the little dysfunctional family in Devil’s Gulch and so I can hear JB ponder “are you writing gay spy porn” again?
> 
> Once more, all I can say is ta so so muchly… and Fuck You Bond.

Breathe in...

Bond sat in a street side cafe in Morocco picking at his kefta tagine. His growing frustration was getting the best of him and food was the last thing on his mind. 

In the last few weeks he had visited three continents, twelve countries, and seventeen safe houses. No Alec. No Q. 

No trace of them at all.

His list was almost to the end.

He had about exhausted every connection he could think of in his search and time was not on his side, he feared. 

“Please tell me you have some good news, Scarlett.” Bond kept one eye on the crowd wandering through the market.

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the call. “Nothing. I have nothing. Mallory is still searching for them. Q is still occasionally wandering around in our servers, but R can’t pinpoint him or keep him out for that matter. But she has quit telling Mallory that he is doing that. Think she feels she’s buying Q some time before Mallory finds them.”

“Has Moneypenny tried speaking with her contact again?”

“Yes but she won’t answer. Dead end there. “

“Is there something you could have missed in that video call? Anything at all, Scarlett?” 

“Don’t you think I’ve played that scenario in my head over and over again. Picking apart any little clue.” Scarlett snapped at him. She hated when he implied she wasn’t at her best.

“Alright. I’ve got a few more options to try. Push Moneypenny for details. Anything might be a help. And the others, if any little thing drifts their way that might be useful. And Osler?”

“Oh, trust me, I’m watching that bastard like a hawk. Something definitely not quite right there, but he’s slippery, too. I’ll get what we’re after, one way or another. All of it. Let you know ASAP.”

Bond disconnected the call. Checking the time, he had five hours before his next flight. Time to check one last source before heading on to the next location. Maybe this one would prove useful. 

He could hope. 

Breathe out...

Hours later, Bond was sitting outside another cafe not far from the Dâr-al-Makhzen, its ornate mosaics glittering in the setting sun.

“I put out enquiries to a few associates who know some skilled … artisans. Figured if your target was truly going to ground, they would need a new face.” Palming a piece of paper, Bond’s contact Yusef slid it across the table, then signaled the waiter to bring him another mint tea. 

Breathe in...

Bond took a sip of his own tea, effortlessly replacing the sunglasses in his jacket pocket with the slip of paper. 

“It is a name only. And he is as talented as he is hard to find. He accepts few clients but with payment comes guaranteed anonymity. He has never been known to break it. I wish you luck in getting anything out of him.”

Breathe out...

Bond finished his drink and left more than enough money on the table to cover the cost of the tea and the information.

“A pleasure as always,” Yusef said with a smile. Bond did not stay to watch him pocket his fee.

Bond did not take the slip of paper from his pocket until he reached the relative safety of his room at the Hotel Sofitel Marrakech after an observantly leisurely stroll about the city to flush out any potential hangers on.

Bond pulled out the paper, took off his jacket, and tossed it on the arm of a chair. Unbuttoning his collar and pulling off his tie, he poured himself a glass of whisky and took it to the balcony. He drank and looked out upon the city, surprised at himself for not immediately looking at the name.

Breathe in...

It might be another dead end. But it could be the lead he had been waiting for. Find Alec. Find Q. 

Except …

Alec was excellent at hiding. The best of the Double Os, but James had always been able to find him, eventually. This time was different. Alec had gone deeper than he ever had before. He clearly didn’t want to be found. But why? Why was he going to such lengths to hide? And to hide _Q_? A man he hadn’t met in person until that horrible day in Q-Branch. 

He needed an answer to that question as much as he needed to find them.

Bond looked at the name then folded it shut again. Fingering its edges a moment, he dropped it into the cut crystal bowl at his side. It was nothing but ashes moments later.

Bond finished his drink and went back inside. Booting up his laptop, he started making plans. 

It was time to find Renato Almeda.

Breathe out...


	86. Outside Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The code scrolled up the screen. Colours flowing. It was a thing of beauty. Winding around itself in complex yet simple data. 
> 
> “This is their latest upload,” the acolyte offered, gesturing at the laptop screen which displayed the complex operation. 
> 
> “This brings them halfway through, correct?” The man sitting behind the desk questioned. 
> 
> “Yes. And just as before, just the code. Corrected. Simplified. And yet, utterly complex in its working.”
> 
> “Elegant. A thing of true beauty...” the man comments to no one, admiring the work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Autumn is here... and we are posting Chapter 86, an epic journey that is far from coming even remotely to an ending. A happy one we hope, but one never knows where the boys will lead us. Because we all know that Devil's Gulch newest residence are ones who never seem to leave excitement and intrigue far behind, even though they just want to be left alone at home in their sheltering garden.
> 
> Just what lies ahead for them? So many questions to be answered... and maybe, just maybe, Dassandre and I might have some answers for you. Maybe...

The code scrolled up the screen. Colours flowing. It was a thing of beauty. Winding around itself in complex yet simple data. 

“This is their latest upload,” the acolyte offered, gesturing at the laptop screen which displayed the complex operation. 

“This brings them halfway through, correct?” The man sitting behind the desk questioned. 

“Yes. And just as before, just the code. Corrected. Simplified. And yet, utterly complex in its working.”

“Elegant. A thing of true beauty...” the man comments to no one, admiring the work.

“And just as with the previous uploads, there was no further communication. No requests. No questions. No mention of a fee for compensation. Nothing. It’s almost as if they’re doing it for entertainment. “

“I want you to find out more about our friendly miracle worker. Is it a man? A woman? Not that it matters much.” The man ran a hand across the laptop screen in an almost possessive manner. Loving. “They’re obviously much more talented than the previous hacker you saddled me with. This one though...  _ this  _ one... would be a wondrous asset to our cause.”

“I’ll have a preliminary report on them before the end of the day, sir. We’ll find them,” the acolyte said. He reached for the laptop but the man at the desk waved him away. 

“I want to study it further. It’s rather like looking at the work of the Renaissance masters. Beautiful and complex in its simplicity.”

The acolyte left with a nod, leaving the man to his studies. He scrolled through it again and again admiring the code. He nearly grew giddy at the possibilities and impatient for the next update. His dreams were so near completion.

He gestured for the tall, fit woman who stood quietly against the wall to his right to join him. He pointed at the screen though he knew she had no grasp of the elegant language that was written there. 

“Find them. Find this …” he checked the notes he’d been provided, “this Orbison. I want them with me. I want to watch as the master completes what will become the world’s  _ ultimate  _ masterpiece.”

“Yes, sir.” The woman departed with her orders, leaving him again to admire this thing of unparalleled beauty. 

Yes. This one was interesting. This one he wouldn’t have to dispose of as he had the others. 

This one he would keep.

  
  
  
  
  



	87. The Forger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ...
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday, everyone! Mondays suck, as we know, but hopefully, this offering will help make Tuesday a tad better. 💕💕
> 
> We are always so grateful for the time you spend with us each week, reading and commenting. Ta, ever so much!
> 
> Ooops! I fell asleep before I could post. Sorry. Monday was exhausting. Here it is. 🙂💕

Breathe in... 

“Your establishment was highly recommended to me by a friend.” Bond wandered the high-end jewellery store, pausing at the glass case that held watches and the Omega that caught his eye. He couldn’t help but remember the last one he had worn on his wrist or the master craftsman who had made it for him. It had saved his life in the desert. How had he repaid those efforts? Not as he should have done. “I have an engagement upcoming out of the country, and I am in need of just the right accessories for the occasion.”

“Is there something in here that is to your liking I could show you? I’m Renato Almeda. Renato if you please.” The jeweller had moved to the case Bond was peering in, anticipating a large sale considering the items Bond was admiring. 

Bond had been in Modelo, Portugal watching the store for three days before approaching the owner. 

“That one, please. If I may take a look at it.” Bond pointed to one of the most expensive watches on display. 

“Of course Mr... and I didn’t catch the name of your friend who graciously recommended my humble establishment.” Alameda laid out a velvet cloth on the countertop and carefully displayed the watch for Bond to see.

“This is an excellent timepiece Mr...”

Breathe out... 

“Sterling. Richard Sterling, and my friend's name is Afanasi Rodchenko.” It was one of Alec’s more favoured aliases for the region. “He said he made a rather large purchase from you, so you naturally would remember him.”

The slight twitch of Renato’s hand as he passed Bond the watch was nearly imperceptible but it was telling all the same. Yes. Alec had been here. Bond felt his heart race with the anticipation that always came when a lead finally panned out. Far too long since he’d felt it. The adrenaline surged through him, and he felt more alive than he had in years. 

“The name is not familiar to-“

“There’s no point in lying to me, Mr. Alameda, we both know Afanasi was here,” Bond slipped the watch on his wrist and secured it, twisting his arm this way and that, admiring the look of it before snapping his gaze on the forger. “And we also know he didn’t purchase anything like this, but items of even greater beauty and craftsmanship.”

Breathe in... 

Alameda met his eyes unflinchingly and Bond could see the pride there. Well Bond knew the importance of stroking an ego here and there. He’d made a career of it. “The work of an artisan, from what I understand.”

“Yes. I do think I remember your friend. His purchase was rather substantial, but I’m afraid I can say no more than that. I guarantee my special clients’ privacy.” He splayed out his hands in an apologetic way. “I’m sure you understand.”

Bond smiled. “Of course,” he said. He popped the clasp of the watch and slid it off his wrist, placing it carefully on the velvet cloth. “But there are understandings and _understandings_. Let’s chat a bit about the latter for a tad, shall we?”

Breathe out ...


	88. Dinner Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’d invited Grace and Bob out to the cabin for dinner as a thank you for all their help the last few weeks as Alec recovered from his surgery. There was no way Ellery and he would have been able to get through it and tend to the garden on their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Six months and 30 thousand hits. You people are just amazing! Just ... thank you! Thank you! Thank you! 🎉🎉🎉
> 
> Boffin and I are humbled but ever so appreciative. 💕💕
> 
> Here's your Friday update. May it help you get through the hours until your weekend begins. Your comments do the same for us, so do let us know what you think.

“His go-bag is always at the back door. He has a burner phone in it pre-programmed with five numbers: your mobile, the hardware store, Grace’s mobile, Raven’s Roast, and my mobile.” Alec pointed out Ellery’s prepacked go-bag in its resting place at the back door. 

“Does he know what...” Bob started. 

“To do? Yeah. We drill this scenario frequently. And we've a code phrase that tells him when he’s supposed to bug out.” Alec unzipped the bag and peered into it, double checking the contents out of habit. Before he finished, a visibly pregnant Cat hopped into the bag and nestled down among Q’s things. 

“Hardly the place for you in there, Miss Thing,” Bob laughed then did a double take when Cat headbutted Alec’s outstretched hand.

“Smart little shite,” Alec said to her before standing. “What?” He chuckled at the bewildered look on Bob’s face. “You really think El would ever dream of leaving her behind? She’s part of the go-bag. She knows the drill, too.”

“Of course she does.” Bob shook his head, though nothing should really surprise him where these three were concerned, and followed Alec out onto the back porch and across the yard to the barn. Alec hauled the heavy door open wide, revealing the snowmobile and ATV inside.

“Ellery knows to head to the four wheeler and to drive cross country. Not to look back or worry about me. “

“He can drive the ATV?” Bob questioned, eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah... I know. One of those Ellery puzzles. Can handle the four wheeler like he was born to it but driving a car is beyond his comprehension.” Alec sighed. “I’ve given up trying to understand the rhyme or reason as to why some things register with him and some don’t. We’ve gone out on it together, though. He’s familiar with the back roads and trails that’ll get him to town. The ones that’ll keep him out of sight. He’s to go first to Grace, then to the hardware store if she’s not at her shop or at home. Now that you’re on board with all this, we’ll ride out to your place, too, so he knows the way.” 

Bob’s cabin was only a mile or so down the highway from the southeastern boundary of Alec’s property, but it was still a bit of a ride as Alec’s cabin sat in the middle of nearly 700 acres. Though Ellery’s security cameras were laid out in a complex web throughout the property, Alec’s thrice daily checks generally encompassed only the interior perimetre of the 300 acres closest to the cabin. “We’ll drill on the snowmobile when the snow flies. He wasn’t well enough for it last winter.”

Neither man needed to comment on the changes in Ellery since he and Alec arrived in Devil’s Gulch nine months ago.

“What about the days he’s lost in his head? Can he manage the plan then?” Bob asked when they returned to the cabin. He nodded at Ellery who was sat in front of the television explaining to Cat — who’d left the comfort of Ellery’s go-bag to enjoy the comfort of her human’s lap, instead — just what P. Allen Smith was saying about the best way to prepare sweet potatoes. Grace sat in ‘her’ chair next to the front window reading a book, enjoying the relative quiet of a crisis-free afternoon away from the shop. 

“Surprisingly he does.” Alec offered Bob a bottle of beer but poured a glass of red wine for himself. Beer and he hadn’t been getting along well since his surgery. “Was afraid he wouldn’t, but we practiced when he was lost in his head. He is a tad slow reacting, but he can do it.” 

Alec pulled a package of thick, hand-cut rib eye steaks Mason had prepared for him out of the fridge and unwrapped them. ‘El?” he called out. “You catted earlier that you wanted the freshest lettuce and tomatoes for the salad. Time to harvest. I’ll start up the grill whilst you’re out in the garden and you can put it together whilst the steaks cook.” Setting her book aside, Grace offered to help. Ellery snagged a basket from the kitchen worktop, stole a kiss from Alec, and popped out the front door with Grace and Cat at his heels.

They’d invited Grace and Bob out to the cabin for dinner as a thank you for all their help the last few weeks as Alec recovered from his surgery. There was no way Ellery and he would have been able to get through it and tend to the garden on their own. 

In addition to dinner, he’d decided to share the details of their ‘bug out’ plan since both Grace and Bob featured in it to some degree. Learning that Osler had been trying to permanently maim Q’s mind, taking advantage of his precarious situation, had set off all Alec’s Double-O instincts. And whilst he and El were doing what they could to find evidence — irrefutable proof might be enough to get Mallory off their arse once and for all — nothing had come to light yet. 

Whilst he seasoned the steaks, Alec told Bob what Grace had discovered about Osler and admitted that the only thing that kept him from returning to London to kill the skull fuck himself was that he’d have to leave Ellery behind. 

“Don’t let that hold you back!’ Bob insisted when Alec finished the story, and Alec couldn’t think of a time when he’d seen his friend quite so angry. “Grace and I will tend him if it lets you put a bullet or ten in that motherfucker!”

Alec appreciated but declined the offer. For now, at least. 

He couldn’t leave Ellery. Something more than Osler, more than Mallory tugged at him. Alec couldn’t pinpoint it, but he knew that now was _not_ the time to leave Ellery behind. 

Something on the horizon. 

A new danger. 

He just didn’t know what.

What Alec _did_ know, however, was that sooner or later, Osler would have to die for stealing Q’s life from him. 

  
  



	89. Proof Positive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hadn’t grown soft … exactly, but Alec knew his skills weren’t where they had been when they’d first arrived and the surgery hadn’t helped matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday, everyone! We made it through Monday, at the very least, and Mondays ... well, they're never a good thing.
> 
> Hopefully this update will bring you some reading enjoyment. Do let us know what you think. 💕💕

Alec sat on the front porch of the cabin resting the local newspaper that he had “liberated” from Grace’s cafe earlier in the day. An iced tumbler with his favourite vodka sat on the table next to him. It was peaceful. Quiet. Watching as the sun slowly crept down, he couldn’t help but wonder just how long this paradise would last for the two of them. 

The foreboding sense of some new threat to Ellery had not abated since they’d had Grace and Bob to dinner. Alec knew better than to not listen to his gut and had upped his perimetre checks. He’d also cleaned each gun in the cabinet thrice over, ensuring they worked perfectly. He’d gone over the other weapons in his kit and made sure that the bits of their personal arsenal stowed beneath cabinets, inside drawers, behind the toilet cisterns, and under pillow cushions were right where they were supposed to be. He desperately needed someone to spar with. Bob, perhaps, but Sam might be the better person to ask. Turned out Grace’s assistant manager was quite skilled in mixed martial arts. Alec might be less likely to accidentally kill him.

He’d also upped his fitness regimen. He hadn’t grown soft … exactly, but Alec knew his skills weren’t where they had been when they’d first arrived and the surgery hadn’t helped matters. The nearest gym was 30 miles south in Silver Creek, so he’d decided to make due with what was about the property, particularly in the barn with the pulley system and some old bales of hay from when it still held horses. 

When Ellery saw what Alec was about, he pulled up something on his tablet for Alec to look at, and after some purchases from Amazon, a trip to the hardware store and another to the scrap yard outside of Eagle, Alec had a pretty decent cross-fit workout going for himself. Who the fuck knew that whipping some ropes around and flipping and lifting a massive tyre would be one of the best workouts he’d ever had. 

The way it made Ellery look at him wasn’t half bad either. El had taken to sitting atop the ATV whenever Alec worked out, and whilst El insisted he was coding for his clients or digging into the Six servers looking for evidence against Osler, Alec noted that more often than not, Ellery’s eyes were _not_ on his computer screen. 

Alec was being ogled.

And Alec rather liked it.

So when he had completed his workout on the third day, and Ellery had hopped off the ATV to climb a sweaty, shirtless Alec like a tree, Alec was more than happy to give El a workout of his own. Seeing a naked Ellery splayed out on his belly, arms wide, gripping the massive tyre treads whilst Alec caressed his arse and slid home with one, long push had stirred primal things in him, and it wasn’t long before their joint shouts of pleasure echoed off the wooden beams of the barn. 

Newspaper forgotten at those memories, he sipped thoughtfully at his drink. Once, he had used the vodka to escape his thoughts and feelings and had crawled out of more bottles of the stuff than he cared to think about. He’d only recently started keeping a small bottle of it in the cabin. He’d nearly talked himself out of it, but between his coffee chats with Grace and the self-introspection it led to, Alec was ultimately confident he’d never find himself crawling out of another one again. There was too much at risk, if he did. Too much to lose.

Which brought his thoughts back to Ellery, the healing and peace they’d both found here, and how to keep it from being torn away from them.

A peace that was shattered by the banging of the screen door on its hinges. Ellery stormed out of the cabin, Cat closely behind him. 

Ellery was shaking. Tears rimmed his eyes, and he shoved his tablet in Alec’s face. 

“Cccaattt,” It was broken-hearted and miserable as Alec had heard since the hospital.

“Calm, Ellery… what’s happened?!” Alec grabbed his arm trying to steady him and the wobbling tablet. Pulling El close, he plucked the table from his grip. 

“Cat! Cat!”

“Alright El… what am I looking at?” Alec started to read, stopping suddenly when he realised it was something inside the MI6 servers. 

“Cat! Cat!” 

At Ellery’s insistence, Alec looked closer and then realised he was looking at the Quartermaster’s medical records, ones he had never seen before. Unredacted. 

The originals.

Worried it might throw Ellery back deep into his twilight world, Alec had been initially hesitant to share what he and Grace suspected was Osler’s true motivation in the initial treatment Q received after his break. But he ultimately decided keeping it from El would betray the trust that was at the heart of their relationship, and that Alec would not do.

In the time since, Ellery had carved out chunks of his day to find proof of their conjecture. He spent nearly as much time ghosting around the MI6 servers as he did weeding, feeding, watering, and harvesting his garden.

Alec knew from their missions together that there was no information, no data, that could be hidden for long from Q’s seeking eyes. Given enough time, Q -- for it was _Q_ , not Ellery, mucking about in the servers -- would find what he was looking for. 

It was inspiring, intimidating, and, at times, rather frightening to watch Q on the hunt. 

And based on what Alec saw on the tablet in his hands, Q had caught his prey.

He read the sections of the file Ellery pointed to then scrolled backwards and forward to gain a bit more context. Sure enough, one of the medications Grace had mentioned -- Alec had committed them to memory -- was listed in The Quartermaster’s medical file.

Rage surged in his chest and spread out through the rest of his body. That motherfucking bastard Osler had deliberately maimed Ellery. For what reason? Why did he perceive Q as a threat in need of elimination? Why not just kill him? Why torture him for--

Oh! 

A soft, plaintive sound from Ellery drew Alec’s attention from his own inner fury, how he intended to seek a painful revenge. Alec set the tablet down on the table next to him, and pulled El down onto his lap. He wrapped him in a tight hug. 

Ellery clutched Alec’s shirt and buried his face in the crook of Alec’s neck. Conjecture and supposition were one thing. Finding concrete evidence that someone who was supposed to look out for your well-being had intentionally done just the opposite … it was devastating. 

The flood gates had opened, and Ellery grieved the loss of who he had once been. Alec held Ellery close as he sobbed. 

“I’m sorry, El,” Alec said against his curls. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” 

Over and over he murmured the words they hadn’t needed in months until Ellery finally cried himself out and lay limp against Alec’s chest.

“I hear you. I see you, Ellery. I hear you, love.”

Always.

  
  



	90. Clues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe in ...
> 
> Breathe out ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!!! 💕💕
> 
> We hope you have a glorious weekend and that enjoying this chapter is a part of it. Let us know what you think.
> 
> 🥰🥰

Bond closed the door to Renato Almeda’s shop behind him. He had a tangible lead now. 

Breathe in... 

A name. 

_ Two  _ names. 

Ruan Kildale and Ellery MacManus. And a description that matched Alec and Q. 

But Almeda’s narrative of the interaction between Alec and Q was troubling. Alameda described Q as being mute and nearly catatonic. “Touched in the head!” The man had crossed himself as he had said it, as if doing so would keep him from catching some sort of illness. 

Breathe out…

There was only one explanation for it.

But why would Alec have had Q medicated so heavily? 

“Not Trevelyan. Would’ve been Osler,” Scarlett told him later that night when he rang to get some insight. “From what Moneypenny indicated, he had Q on some pretty heavy meds after he broke. Odds are Alec was just following the medical treatment plan.”

Something didn’t sit right about that. Not Alec’s actions, though. He wasn’t a physician and, like Bond, had always eschewed doctors, shrinks, and the meds they prescribed. He wouldn’t have known any better. No. It was Osler. Yet wasn’t the goal of therapy to talk out the issues? Find a way to resolve what had driven Q to nearly kill himself. Rather impossible to do if Q was too drugged to recognise his surroundings let alone speak to anyone.

Breathe in...

The tang of salt water filled his nose. The view of the Atlantic from his hotel room balcony was nice enough. It wasn’t Jamaica, but it would do.

“Any luck getting Q’s medical records?” he asked.

“Not at all. R did her best, but she couldn’t find them,” Scarlett answered, clearly frustrated. “So either they don’t exist on the server, or ...”

“Or they’re so deeply buried it would take Q to find them.” James scrubbed at his face. “Fuck. Suggestions?”

The pause on the end of the line indicated Scarlett was considering their options. “I’ll look around for a paper copy. Osler’s smart, but he’s ultimately an idiot. He’ll have kept a record somewhere.”

“His office?”

“More than likely, which means it’ll be its own challenge getting in without submitting to having my head shrunk. Though …”

“What?”

“Rand is coming back from Tucson in another week. He’ll need his post-mission psych eval done.”

Bond rolled his eyes. “I fail to see how that’ll help. He loathes psych more than the rest of us combined.” Something in Rand Aguilar’s past had made him dislike shrinks from an early age, but a post-mission eval with Maggie Pelshaw four years ago had nearly turned violent. What she said to generate such a vicious reaction from the otherwise reasonably even-tempered 009 had never been revealed, but  _ something _ had happened. And in the two years before James had gone to Mexico City to find Sciarra, 009’s psych evals had largely consisted of ticking off boxes to appease the paper-pushers. Bond had no reason to believe things had changed. He said as much to Scarlett. 

“He may want to set fire to the whole department, but Rand will do  _ anything _ for Q,” she replied. 

“Can we trust him?”

Scarlett actually snorted. “Trust him more than I do you.”

James found he really couldn’t disagree with that. 

“One other thing,” she said, sensing he was about to end the call. “Something’s wrong with Mallory.  _ Beyond _ his obsession with The Quartermaster,” she clarified before Bond could point out the obvious. “Hadn’t seen him since he returned from that meeting with the DGSE when you were on home soil, but I shared the lift with him the other morning. Bond … he looks horrid. And not in that ‘I’m permanently exhausted because I’ve got a shite job’ kind of way. He’s ill.  _ Really _ ill. Eve’s worried, but he keeps brushing off her concerns. She managed to get him to take a few days off after he nearly lost his shite in a meeting with the Foreign Secretary a week ago. Moneypenny refused to say what happened, only that Tanner had to do some quick talking to get M out of the hole he nearly dragged us all into. Osler, perhaps?”

James considered her words. “Possible. Learn what you can, though. And keep me posted.” Bond drained his whisky and checked his watch. It was nearly time to leave for the airport. His bag sat on the bed in the room behind him. He hadn’t even unpacked. 

“Have you found them?” Scarlett asked. 

“Getting closer.” He wasn’t ready to share with anyone, not even Scarlett, the names he had learned. Better he find Alec and Q and assess the situation first. Then … maybe …

“Don’t even think of leaving me out of this, Bond. I owe them too much.”

Bond thought of what Tanner had told him about Q. What he had seen on the video with his own eyes.

Breathe out...

Not as much as I do.


	91. Quarry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Pineapple Fanta! Pineapple?! Like the orange wasn’t disgusting enough?! What self-respecting human being drinks such nasty shite? Even vodka couldn’t make that taste better!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday, everyone! We hope you had a good weekend and a not horrible Monday.
> 
> Just an FYI, we will have two chapter updates for you this week (today and Friday) but next week it will be only one. This is more a timing issue than it is a matter of not having the chapters ready. So for those of you who are using the updates to remind you what day of the week it is (I include myself in this group 😉💕), next week there will only be an update on Tuesday, November 3. That's election day for those of us living stateside, so something uplifting might be in order. 💕💕
> 
> Boffin and I hope you like this update. Please let us know what you think. Love you all!
> 
> Oh, and there's a new cake recipe at the end of the chapter. One our Quartermaster will particularly like, we think. 🍰

Alec and Ellery made their way out of the grocery both laden down with bags. Neither one of them wanted to bother with having to return the trolley to the store, instead choosing to become two pack mules. 

“Don’t give me that look!” The banter and snark flowed freely between the two of them, as usual. “Of course you sneaked those sweets into the cart! It’s sure as fuck wasn’t Mason!”

“Cat?” Ellery just smiled and gave him the sweet and innocent 'who me?' look. 

“Yes, you! And… the pineapple Fanta! _Pineapple_?! Like the orange wasn’t disgusting enough?! What self-respecting human being drinks such nasty shite? Even vodka couldn’t make _that_ taste better!”

“Cat!” Ellery huffed, dismissing his complaints with a flap of his hand. _You’ve no class, Alec!_ He dug through one of the reusable bags on his arm and pulled out a bag of crisps, tearing it open with his teeth so he could grab a handful to snack on.

“You are such a brat! I should leave you with Grace for a couple of days. Maybe you’d learn some manners. Or better yet, I’ll leave you with _Miriam_! She’d whip you into shape!”

“Cat... Alec! Cat!” _Please! Miriam loves me!_ Ellery threw his bags in the boot of the Explorer, blew Alec a kiss followed by a raspberry, and sauntered off towards Raven’s Roast. 

“Wait for me, you tosser!”

Alec put his bags next to El’s and clicked the fob to lock the car, sprinting to catch up with Ellery who was already halfway across the car park. Grace rang them that morning to say she felt she had finally perfected her Earl Grey Cake with Vanilla Bean Buttercream frosting. Ellery, ever the Earl Grey devotee, had been catting about it all day and was clearly eager to get some in his belly, even if it wasn’t chocolate.

He had nearly caught up with Ellery when something pricked his senses, causing him to slow. A warning? No. It wasn’t that so much as something … Alec turned around slowly, methodically scanning the area. Saturday afternoon, the car park of the Safeway was close to capacity with locals shopping for the week or tourists popping in for snacks and whatnot for their travels. He recognised a few people from town loading their groceries into their own cars, a few more heading in to shop. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but yet …

“Alec! Cat!” Ellery had reached the road and was gesturing across the way to Grace’s shop on the corner, clearly annoyed that Alec was taking his own bloody time to get his arse in gear. Didn’t he know there was cake to be eaten?!

“Okay, I’m coming! Don’t get your knickers in a twist, you little shite! Grace probably made an entire cake just for you, so it’s not like you won’t get any,” Alec said as he did another slow spin. One last check. Still seeing nothing, he hurried off to join Ellery. 

Breathe in...

Slumped down slightly to keep out of sight, Bond watched from inside his rental car as Alec and Q waited for traffic to pass before darting across the street to Raven’s Roast Coffee. Alec ushered Q inside the corner shop with a quick swat on his arse before the door swung shut behind them both. 

Now that was … unexpected. Clearly there was more going on between Alec and the Quartermaster than just that of agent and asset. But then, here, exiled in the wilds of America -- America of _all_ places, really, Alec! -- anything was possible, he supposed.

Once he’d had the names from the forger in Portugal, it had been a matter of days before he tracked his quarry to Colorado. Bond had arrived in Devil’s Gulch only that morning, and it had been sheer luck he spotted Alec and Q pulling into the grocery store car park an hour ago. Well, he had spotted Alec easily enough. It had taken two and then three close looks to finally recognise the slim man at Alec’s elbow as his Quartermaster. Q’s hair was longer than Bond ever remembered it being, and the goatee was certainly new, but dressed in slim cut jeans that hugged his arse, checkered trainers, and a dark green t-shirt emblazoned with some sort of mathematical formulae, Q looked more like a Uni student and so unlike last time Bond had seen him in the MI6 garage: sleep-deprived, wearing a jacket and tie and a quizzical frown as Bond drove off in the DB5 with Madeleine at his side.

Something that had been clenched tightly in his chest loosened a bit at the sight of Q ... and Alec, too. How long had he felt like this, he wondered, and hadn’t noticed? Since leaving London? Or before that? Since Austria with Q and Madeleine in the same room? 

Shrugging it off for now, Bond got out of the car and headed into the Safeway. It was time to get some intel and then figure out what he was going to do from here. 

Breathe out...  
  
  


* * *

  
  
[Earl Grey Cake with Vanilla Bean Buttercream Frosting](https://livforcake.com/earl-grey-cake/)


	92. Surveillance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The puzzle of runaway 006 and his Quartermaster just became odder by the passing moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday of another long week for all of us, I'm sure, but we've nearly made it to the weekend.
> 
> I did decide to rename the days of the week, however: Monday, Monday, Monday, Monday, Friday, Saturday, Almost Monday Again. It somehow seems fitting. Disturbing, but fitting. 😁
> 
> Anyhoo ... it's Friday,and that means it's time for an update. Boffin and I hope you enjoy this one. Do let us know what you think. Love you all! 💕🥰💕

The black Explorer turned on a country lane that wound up through a heavy section of woods, signage designating it a private road. Bond held back down the road, waiting. The 4x4 didn’t return. 

Breathe in... 

Earlier, he’d used his mobile to search public records on property deeds and learned there was a home farther up the road belonging to Ruan Kildale, purchased almost six years earlier. How had he not known about this safe house of Alec’s? How had he not known about the Ruan Kildale alias for that matter? 

There had been a time when they had shared everything with each other.

Had Alec lost his trust in James? And so long ago?

He didn’t understand. No. That wasn’t true.  _ For once in your bloody life, be honest with yourself, Bond!  _ Tanner’s words as he’d left their impromptu meeting at Six came back to him. No, he had a pretty good idea why Alec had locked down this information, but Bond couldn’t think about that right now. There were too many other things he didn’t understand that pertained directly to The Quartermaster’s safety, and that had to be his priority right now. 

The thing that puzzled him the most was how Alec and Q seemed to have completely settled into this secluded town. They looked like they belonged here and were a part of the community. After their outing to the grocery, Alec and Q had wandered down the pavement to a cafe, and for the next two hours Bond watched them interact with the people inside as if they had been around for years instead of just a few short months. 

Afterward, they drove to an older home in a neighbourhood Scarlett would have called cringeworthy “quaint” if she had been there. Q carried what looked like a bakery box of pastries to the door where he was met by an elderly woman with a big smile who didn’t hesitate to invite both of them inside. 

The puzzle of runaway 006 and his Quartermaster just became odder by the passing moment. And now he sat at the end of a lane, in the middle of nowhere stateside, waiting and plotting his next move.

Breathe out... 

Hiding the car in a copse of pine trees a quarter mile down the roadway, Bond grabbed a spotting scope from his kit and made his way through the woods onto Alec’s property. It wasn’t long before the Quartermaster’s influence could be seen even here, in the arse-end of nowhere: CCTV cameras were tucked into the trees, behind rocks, and inside bushes at regular intervals, creating an impressive early warning system. Bond would have to be careful if he didn’t want to be spotted. He wanted to get a greater understanding of Alec and Q’s new life before he approached them. 

He only just managed to avoid Alec doing a perimetre check by ducking behind a large boulder surrounded by thick shrubbery at the base of a small hill. He waited ten minutes before continuing on in the direction of the private road and the cabin that likely sat at the end of it. 

Bond was surprised by what he found in the clearing at the end of the road. Rustic only insofar as it was a true log cabin, there was otherwise nothing primitive about it. It was large, two stories, with a wide porch that ran the whole perimetre of the structure. There were several outbuildings including a barn outside of which sat an ATV. 

Situating himself against another large boulder several hundred metres from the cabin, he pulled out his scope and adjusted the sight.

It was then that Bond got his first real look at what he first dismissed as only a bit of a garden. 

Breathe in... 

It was awe inspiring. 

Well-tended and featuring more flowers and types of vegetables than Bond could name, the garden took up almost all the free space between the buildings and down the slope toward the lake. A bang drew his attention back to the barn where Q had emerged from within. With a sunhat on his head and a garden hoe angled against his shoulder, he seemed to be having a rather animated conversation with the Siamese cat that walked alongside him, but that wasn’t what surprised Bond. 

The Quartermaster was bare-arse naked. 

Oh!

Breathe out... 

  
  
  



	93. Reconnaissance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me again what you know about the doctor. This psychiatrist who was treating Q,” Bond said, trying to redirect Scarlett. “Moneypenny’s contact.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear ones! We hope you had a good start to your week and that Monday wasn't too terrible.
> 
> Please remember that today's update is the only one for this week. Our next update will be next Tuesday, November 10, and at that time we will resume our normal twice per week posting schedule. Sorry for the change, but we're wanting to time something out for next week.
> 
> Please let us know what you think of this chapter. We always love hearing from you, but I think this week, we could all use some of the wonderful camaraderie that can sometimes happen within the comments section of this story. 💕💕
> 
> Enjoy!

Breathe in...

“You promised me, Bond! Tell me where you are?!” Scarlett snarled at him. “Should’ve gone with my gut and just shot you in that corridor.”

“Need to do some more reconnaissance. Gathering intel. When I know more, I’ll call you in.” Bond stood at the window of his hotel room, glass in hand, staring out at the mountains rising in the distance. The area was brilliant, peaceful. He could see what had drawn Alec to the area. It was far different from any other area either of them had chosen for a safe house. 

Scarlett growling at him again pulled him abruptly from his thoughts. “Have some patience, Scarlett.” He wandered back to the small table tucked in the corner of the room, picking up the notes he had made last night whilst searching online for information on the town residents that Alec and Q seemed to have the most contact with: Grace and Miriam Mikelson, Sam Fowler, and Bob Taylor. There were others, of course -- Alec and Q were apparently friendly with half the bloody town, after all -- but in the few days Bond had been in Devil’s Gulch, those four seemed to get the lion’s share of the MI6 agents’ spare time. 

“Tell me again what you know about the doctor. This psychiatrist who was treating Q,” Bond said, trying to redirect Scarlett. “Moneypenny’s contact.” 

Despite her anger with him, Scarlett shared again what little she knew: the doctor’s shifting accent, her righteous, almost personal anger with MI6 over the Quartermaster’s treatment -- both medically and personally -- and the fact that Scarlett was certain Moneypenny knew more than she was saying. 

Bond was trying to piece together the scenario Scarlett had described with what he had observed of Alec and Q over the past few days. He had already decided to approach Alec alone. From what Scarlett had told him, and knowing Alec, if he felt they were being cornered ... 

He didn’t want to even consider that scenario. 

Breathe out... 

“Is 009 back yet?”

“No. There were some problems in Tucson, Rand won’t be back for another few days. The others are all out on assignment, and I’m reluctant to get one of the SIOs involved in distracting Osler.” 

Bond understood where she was coming from. It wasn’t that the Senior Intelligence Officers weren’t loyal to Q, it’s just that many of them were loyal to MI6 first, always had been. Hell, _he_ always had been when he was an SIO. It took becoming a Double-O for him to see that loyalty wasn’t always as clear cut a thing as he’d once believed, and longer still for him to realise the rarity of finding someone who stood out in stark contrast to the otherwise shifting shades of grey in the world of international espionage. Q was that stark, reliable, stalwart contrast, and it’s why he held the Double-Os loyalty. An irony was not lost on a single one of them. 

“I suppose I could try to get in without--”

Bond shook his head though she couldn’t see it. “Too risky. It’s our own house,” he paused, it wasn’t his anymore, hadn’t been for quite some time, and he was grateful Scarlett didn’t call him out for it. She’d have been right to. “It’s not like breaking into someone else’s. Hold tight til Aguilar gets back. Keep to your plan. What about Mallory?”

“Took a few days at Moneypenny’s urging. He’s back though. Not seen him myself, but apparently he looks no better. I’m going to dig a bit deeper into Osler’s files when I get in there. See if he’s not responsible for this, too.” 

“Good idea. Ta, Scarlett, for the update. I’ll call you back when I know more,” he replied, disconnecting their call before she could protest again. He ran his fingers over the list of names on the pad of hotel room paper and considered his next steps. Approaching any of them directly yet wasn’t likely the best play. Still too many unknown factors, and he couldn’t risk Alec getting wind that someone was around town asking questions.

Then he considered where he’d first caught sight of Alec and Q. Oh, yes! He looked at the kitchenette across the room with its empty cupboards and fridge. Perhaps it was time to do some shopping.

Two days later, Bond sat in Raven’s Roast, an Americano on the table in front of him. He thumbed through the intel he had gathered on his mobile on the woman behind the counter. Grace Mikelson -- the Quartermaster’s elusive psychiatrist -- bustled about, serving her clientele with skill and an easy way with people that had made even him feel welcome when he had placed his order. 

Recognising that another Brit popping up in such a small town -- let alone in the same coffee shop Alec and Q frequented -- would likely set the alarm bells ringing, he’d kept up the ‘Michael Cansler’ alias he’d been using around town since he first checked into his hotel. Dressing down in jeans, a t-shirt, and trainers and affecting an American accent that grated on his own ears, ‘Mike from New York’ was in need of a strong cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich before he headed out on one of the scenic hikes the area was known for. It was unlikely he’d run into Alec and Q; they had yet to make an appearance at the coffee shop before one in the afternoon. 

Even observing from a distance as he had done those first days, it had been easy for Bond to see that Alec and Q had a particularly close relationship with the coffee shop owner, enough to warrant her making his list for closer investigation. From there, in part due to what he had learned from a couple of elderly ladies at the Safeway the other afternoon -- it was rather amazing what one could learn whilst chatting casually about how to choose the best melons -- it hadn’t taken much for Bond to ferret out Dr. Mikelson’s past. 

If her service record was anything to go by, Mikelson was an extremely good psychiatrist. The Quartermaster was lucky to have her. From what Scarlett, Tanner, and even the forger, Renato, had to say, Q had been all but catatonic before reaching Devil’s Gulch. And whilst there seemed to be a few … quirks in the Quartermaster that Bond had observed from afar -- naked gardening, for instance -- he seemed to be much improved from those initial reports. 

Breathe in...

Enough to still be a sought after prize by whomever had sent Felix running to Bond in the first place.

Right. Time to get on with it, he supposed. 

Bond finished his coffee and pocketed his mobile. As he passed the counter, he dropped a five dollar bill into the tip jar, earning a smile and a thank you from the young man who was plating a piece of chocolate cake for a customer.

Bond nodded and stepped out onto the pavement. He slid on his sunglasses, turned his face up toward the sun for a moment, then turned for his car parked down the street. 

Breathe out...

It was time to let Alec know he was in town.

  
  



	94. Poppies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...Of all the many different plots and boxes and beds that meshed and melded to create the complex harmony of Ellery’s Garden, there was one patch where Alec was not allowed to go..."
> 
> Today’s chapter holds many significant moments and thoughts in the lovely vision of a simple delicate poppy. 
> 
> Firstly, “Lest we forget...” a moment to those everywhere who have served and gave the ultimate sacrifice for their loved ones safety and freedom. Next it brings a fond memory for me of a long ago terraced garden that belonged to my great aunt and uncle who lovingly tended a beautiful terrace bank that was completely covered in brilliant poppies off all hues that bloomed into a magnificent array that so left a lasting impression on me as a child. And thirdly, but not any way less significant, is the declaration of love that Ellery proclaims to Alec in his own special way. 
> 
> Also, I must mention the brilliantly talented @aliensundermybed (@Dramaticatart on Twitter) who created the amazing artwork below illustrating this chapter. And an ever grateful “ta so so muchly” to @Dassandre who gifted this piece to me. 
> 
> Please read on with us and enjoy the moment with Alec and Ellery.
> 
> Boffin....

Of all the many different plots and boxes and beds that meshed and melded to create the complex harmony of Ellery’s Garden, there was one patch where Alec was not allowed to go. It sat well beyond the drive in front of the cabin on a wide, gentle slope that ran down toward the lake. He had tilled and composted that section of land with Bob back in March, but when planting day arrived, Ellery refused Alec’s help, taking only Bob and Mele down with him. 

An hour later when he popped into the house -- ostensibly to use the loo but in reality to escape, for even two minutes, Cat’s non-stop whinging -- Alec caught a glimpse of the trio at work. Bob dragged a triple-bladed tool through the earth whilst Q walked behind, sprinkling seeds into the newly created furrows from a wide-mouthed bag slung across his shoulder. Mele followed, covering the seeds loosely with soil. 

They were at it a good two hours, but when they returned to help with the rest of the garden, neither Bob nor Mele said anything about what they had planted. And Ellery’s “Cat!” was so clearly a ‘mind your own bloody business!’ it had Grace giggling like a schoolgirl.

For easy watering, every plot and bed and box in Ellery’s Garden was hooked up to a drip system, except the one on the slope beyond the drive. Every three days (if it didn’t rain), El traipsed back and forth between the plot and the tap on the front of the cabin with his two large watering cans so he could hand water the large patch. It took him the better part of an hour, but like with the planting, he flatly refused any help from Alec. Cat was his only companion on those journeys, following her human back and forth between the rows, occasionally pouncing on a bug or batting at a butterfly. 

A fortnight after the mystery seeds were planted, the first bits of … whatever appeared. A week later, a hazy green covered the earth beyond the drive, but over the coming months, Alec had to watch it all grow from afar. 

Only twice did Alec risk getting close enough to the field to see what was there. The first time, Ellery appeared out of nowhere brandishing a hand spade, starkers save for a pair of Tardis boxers. Cat was at his side, tail lashing like a dragon protecting her treasure. The look on his face that of the displeased Quartermaster Alec had imagined more than once on comms. Alec was pretty sure the only thing that kept him from getting slashed with the garden tool was his quick quip about what was inside those boxers being far bigger than what was on the outside. Granted, El still attacked Alec, but it resulted in them both buck arse naked, scratched up by pine needles, fully sated, and thankful that their nearest neighbours were half a mile down the road for all the noise they had made.

The second time … well, the second time El again appeared out of nowhere, fully clothed in his pyjamas this time, but wearing an oddly sad look on his face. His “cat” was so mournful and disappointed that Alec was never again tempted to sneak down to the mystery plot. Ellery clearly wanted him to wait, so wait he would.

During the day, he watched El and Cat water or weed. In the early evenings, just before dusk, he sat outside in his preferred chair and took in the minute changes in the landscape and wondered about the flower patch -- he was pretty sure they were flowers -- that sat in the foreground of his favourite view from the front porch.

Though London was not nearly as dreary and overcast as most non Brits assumed, Colorado nevertheless proved itself to be far sunnier than expected, and the flower patch thrived. As the seedlings grew, leaves sprouted and thin stems stretched toward the vivid blue sky. 

It stayed light well past 9 pm, but on those nights when Ellery was his most present, Alec often moved the three of them from the porch into the centre of the garden beneath a copse of pine trees strung with solar powered fairy lights where they’d installed comfortable garden furniture and even some outdoor reading lamps. The men had tacitly agreed to it being a tech free zone, and Alec would read aloud to Ellery since former Quartermaster had not picked up a book -- digital or otherwise -- since his break. 

But when flower buds started appearing and it seemed the field was near to exploding into bloom, Alec would often pause in the middle of whatever he was reading and speculate aloud on what they could be. Ellery would “Cat!” in annoyance and elbow Alec in the leg if he was lying with his head in Alec’s lap. 

_Mind your own business, you arse! Get back to reading!_

“Fine, you little shite. Keep your secrets, then.”

One morning in late August, Alec woke to a naked Ellery straddling his hips with a blindfold in his hands. 

“Didn’t get enough of that last night, then?” Alec said with a sleepy grin in spite. He wrapped his arm around El’s waist and pulled him in for a lazy kiss. He rolled Ellery beneath him and settled down on top to pick up where they had left off, but El slid away and off the side of the bed. He snagged Alec’s sleep trousers that had been hastily discarded the night before and held them and the blindfold out to Alec.

Alec took both and cocked one eyebrow. “What are you up to now?”

Picking up his own boxers, El turned away and slid them on, being sure to give Alec a bit of a show as he did so. “Cat,” he said with a coy look over his shoulder.

“Sun’s barely up, and it’ll be hard for you to show me anything if I’m wearing this.” Alec gestured with the blindfold. He slung the length of silk around his neck and pulled on the trousers. 

An eye roll was his only response.

“Fine. Fine. Surprise me, then. You’ll have your way regardless.” Though Alec tried to sound irritated, he knew he wasn’t fooling Ellery. He was too intrigued. He tied the length of fabric around his eyes and held his hand out to El.

Five minutes and much in the way of careful maneuvering down the stairs and out the door to the front porch, Ellery finally positioned Alec just so, stood behind him, and began to untie the blindfold.

“Cat,” he warned.

“Yes, I’ll keep my eyes closed.”

“Cat!”

“Of course I promise, you little shite!”

The silk slid away, slipping down Alec’s shoulder, its cool length dropping to the floorboards to pool next to his foot. He felt El raise to his tiptoes and lean against him, lanky arms wrapping around his middle. 

The whisper of “Alec,” was warm against his ear. 

He opened his eyes to a firestorm of colour. 

Poppies. A field filled with poppies. Reds and oranges and yellows all abloom, their sun-tipped ruffled faces wavering in the light morning breeze. 

“My God!” Alec’s declaration was hushed and muffled by his hand which had shot to his mouth in his surprise. “Ellery …” 

“Cat? Alec? Cat?!”

“No, no … I love … El … of course I love it!” Alec pulled him out from behind him and held him close. “You remembered. How in the hell could you have possibly remembered?”

Mr. Kavanaugh’s garden ... Alec had been merely a lad, still living in Yorkshire. Despite her best efforts, his mum had no talent for growing things. Her roses wilted and died and her pansies always caught some sort of rot, but she kept trying because young Alec loved flowers. Then old Mr. Kavanaugh invited Alec through the gate and showed the lad all his garden had to offer. It was in that garden that he saw his first poppies, a huge patch of reds and oranges and yellows that caught the sun and set the garden afire with their brilliance. It was in that poppy patch where Alec would play with his trucks and soldiers until the sun went down. It was in that poppy patch where Alec would hide when his Da’s drinking led to shouting and screaming and crying. It was in that poppy patch where Mr. Kavanaugh found a blood splattered lad curled up asleep among the dying, flaming flowers the morning after pride and bitterness and shame turned Alec into an orphan.

But still, Alec loved poppies. Bold yet delicate. A symbol of peace and remembrance. Mr. Kavanaugh’s laughing, whiskered face. His mum’s bright smile.

It had been only a snippet of a conversation between him and Q on comms. Well over a year ago now, but he remembered it because of how Q had ended that conversation, and the hope he had felt in spite of the sheer impossibility of what the Quartermaster had suggested.

“Perhaps one day, you’ll have a poppy patch of your own, 006.”

And now he did.

As Ellery led Alec down to the poppies, he couldn’t help but think of everything that had gone into this. The planning and planting. The watering and weeding. The tending and the cultivating. El had done it on his own. Hours upon hours. 

For him.

And in the centre of it all, a clear patch of earth large enough for a much bigger lad to sit and think among the flaming poppies.

It was a declaration. It was permanence. 

Alec sat among poppies for the first time in nearly 40 years. It was not with his trucks or with his soldiers or with his tears or with his fear. It was with his arms wrapped around Ellery, chin propped on the slight shoulder of this man who meant everything to him as they watched the sun come up over a flaming field together.

“I love you,” he whispered into the morning air at Ellery’s ear. He’d probably never say it aloud again, but it was true nonetheless.

Ellery snuggled his back in more closely to Alec’s chest and turned his head enough to kiss Alec’s cheek. “Mine.”

“Yours.”

And as had happened when he was a wee lad that first time among the poppies, a certain joy settled into Alec’s heart. He was at peace. Something he’d not known in decades. 

He should have known the peace would not last.


	95. Lemon Ginger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Green-thumb was so insufficient a term to describe the natural skill Ellery had with growing and tending things. Alec couldn’t help but wonder if El would have ever discovered this talent if he’d stayed Quartermaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were so many feels with that last chapter and the gorgeous art that went along with it. Boffin and I are so very glad that you enjoyed it as much as we did. The chapter had been written months ago when we had no idea what our posting schedule would look like. We find it fascinating that with only one slight update delay, we were able to post Poppies on the day before Remembrance Day. It was meant to be, perhaps.
> 
> But we did leave it on a bit of a cliffie, so ... here we go ...
> 
> As always, do let us know what you think. Adore you all! 💕🥰

Ellery, with Cat at his heels, came into the cabin with another basket full of fresh produce. Alec shook his head with the sheer enormity of what the garden was producing. Yes, Ellery had planted just about everything that would grow in the mountain climate, but even plants that typically grew at lower elevations seemed to be thriving. Green-thumb was so insufficient a term to describe the natural skill Ellery had with growing and tending things. Alec couldn’t help but wonder if El would have ever discovered this talent if he’d stayed Quartermaster. Probably not. Q hadn’t even had a cat back in London let alone time to grow things. Too busy. Away too much. Too long. Would be unfair to the creature. That is how Q responded the one time they brought up furry companions on comms. Alec had heard the wistfulness in his voice, though. He’d wanted one. Badly. Looking back on it, Alec had known even then how much more Q had wanted for himself. And how he had accepted he’d likely never have it.

But here, in Colorado, Cat and the garden were as inexorably linked with Ellery as coding and tech had been with Q in London. Cat, the garden, coding, tech … they were all Q. All Ellery.

“Next year I think we need to scale back a tad, El,” Alec said, pushing back the memories of a previous life to focus on the new one, uncertain though it was. “Either that or open a bloody booth at one of those Farmer’s Market things down in the valley that Grace is always talking about. Otherwise, our friends are going to get sick of us pushing veg off on them all the time. ”

All he got in return was a  _ They Wouldn’t Dare!  _ “Cat!” from Ellery and a disdainful flip of a tail from a heavily pregnant cat as she trailed behind him up the stairs. Alec watched her cat butt waddle away, scrubbed his face, and sighed. One cat was a pain in the arse. What were they going to do with God knew how many kittens? 

He could just see them, he and Ellery, pulling up at their friends’ homes and knocking on the door, “Here... have some potatoes, tomatoes, broccoli, and a kitten!” 

Christ! Yeah, that’d go over well.

“Wash up... lunch is almost ready,” he called out to Ellery. “And your face too! Looks like you were wallowing in the dirt out there!”

Alec turned to set plates on the table just as the perimeter alarms sounded. A car was in the lane approaching the cabin. Grabbing up the tablet, he pulled up the CCTV monitors. 

They weren’t expecting anyone. 

A plain, dark blue Ford sedan drove slowly up the long, winding drive. Widening in the camera angle, Alec peered at the screen, getting a closer look at the driver. 

“Fuck!” Dropping the tablet, Alec ran to the base of the staircase. “Ellery! Ellery!” Alec shouted up the stairs. “Lemon ginger! Run now, Ellery! Now!”

Bond had found them. 

Ellery appeared at the top of the stairs, Cat winding around his ankles. 

“Lemon ginger, El! Get the fuck out of here!” 

Ellery’s wide-eyed stare lasted only half a moment more before he grabbed Cat and dashed down the stairs. Cat ceased her protesting the moment El slid her into the go-bag and zipped it shut. He struggled into a hoodie he pulled from the closet beneath the stairs and shoved his bare feet into the first pair of trainers he found. Looping the strap of the bag over his head and across his chest, he snagged the key to the ATV from its hook just inside the back door and peered out toward the front of the house in time to see Alec pull a rifle from the gun cupboard. 

“Cat, Alec!” His voice was distressed but Alec couldn’t worry about that now. He had an asset to protect.

“Go, El! Now!” 006 snarled at him as he opened the front door and raised the rifle to his shoulder.

Ellery nodded and dashed out the back just as the blue Ford pulled up in front of the cabin.

The go-bag jostled roughly as El hopped into the seat of the ATV. Cat meowed once in concern rather than anger but then fell silent except for a deep purr that vibrated through the bag against Ellery’s back. She knew her role as well as Ellery and Alec knew theirs. 

Looking over his shoulder at the far corner of the cabin, trying to see if he had been followed, Ellery nearly dropped the key, but he secured his hold and turned it in the ignition. The ATV roared to life, and taking a deep breath, El slid it into gear. There was an initial lurch but he regained control, opened up the throttle, and sped past the two outbuildings beyond the barn and into the forest beyond.

The wind whipped around him as he tore through the forest. He felt the edges of his focus start to blur as fear and panic began to set in, but Ellery fought it off as best he could. He could do this. He had to get to safety. 

Alec was counting on him to do so. 

So was Cat.

He could do this.

A low-hanging pine bough snapped roughly against his face, cutting into his skin. El felt the blood drip from just below his temple and down the side of his cheek. He dabbed at it with the cuff of his sweatshirt, pulled the hood up over his head, and had just hunkered down over the dash of the vehicle to avoid further problems when the left wheel caught a large rock at a bad angle. Ellery screamed in fright as the ATV nearly rolled, but he shifted his weight and brought it back to balance. Cat’s purring deepened, suffusing Ellery’s body with calming vibrations.

Calm. Warm. Content. Unconditional acceptance.

Loved. 

El steadied his breathing, measured it with Cat’s purring and, making a sharp turn to the left instead of to the right, focused again on the terrain in front of him. He knew where he had to go now. 

He knew where he would be safe.


	96. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond closed the door and started off towards the out buildings and the massive garden space. From what he had observed, Alec and Q spent quite a lot of time outside either working in the garden and flower beds or sometimes just reading and relaxing. Something he would have never expected out of either of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could this be the chapter everyone's been waiting for? Or could we have been horrible and left you all hanging off yet another cliff? 🧗🏻 🧗🏻
> 
> Hmmmmm ... 🤔🤔 
> 
> Let's find out.
> 
> Do let us know what you think of this update. Comments are sustaining us more than anything right now. Well, comments and copious amounts of tea and coffee. We need it all!💕🥰💕☕️

Bond slowed the car to a stop a few yards back from the front of the cabin. Everything seemed quiet. No visible signs of Alec or Q around the out buildings or in the garden. He turned off the car, opened the driver’s side door, and crawled out.

Breathe in... 

Staying inside the opened door, he waited, eyes darting about taking in all he could, watching for any sign of movement. With all the CCTV cameras Bond had observed during his previous surveillance, he knew they knew he was here. It wasn’t as if he had hidden his approach.

Bond closed the door and started off towards the out buildings and the massive garden space. From what he had observed, Alec and Q spent quite a lot of time outside either working in the garden and flower beds or sometimes just reading and relaxing. Something he would have never expected out of either of them. 

The domesticity of it all was confusing to him. Alec might have dreamed of a life such as this early in their careers, but not Q. Bond couldn’t picture Q not surrounded by his bits and pieces of technology and dwelling in Q Branch. 

But this?

He wandered the property for some time. He checked all the out buildings. The garden was empty, too. Not even a sign of the Siamese that seemed to be Q’s constant companion. Even though the black Explorer was parked in front of the barn, Bond began to wonder if they were even here. He hadn’t seen them leave, but there was a CCTV camera pointed at the garden space, so they should...

“You’re an uninvited visitor, James.” 

The cold barrel of a rifle suddenly pressed to the middle of his back and Bond came to an abrupt halt. He tamped down on his instinct to reach for his own weapon. To spin and attack. 

“I knew someone would eventually come for us, but I didn't think they would send _you_.” Alec had caught him off guard. He must have come out of the underbrush and trees that ran up against the side of the barn. Bond had never heard Alec’s approach. He’d clearly got out of practice in Jamaica. 

“Alec, it’s not what you think...” Bond started. 

“Oh, it’s _exactly_ what I think. I just never thought _you_ would betray me, betray _us_ this way.” The rifle shoved into his back harder. “I don’t want to kill you, but I won’t let anything or anyone hurt Q. Not even you. Should have stayed out of this James.” 

Breathe out... 

"I’m not entirely sure what I’m _in_ to stay out of, Alec.” He kept his hands far out from his sides so his friend knew he had no intention of reaching for one of his weapons. “And I really wish someone would start explaining it to me.”

“You’re fucking Osler’s errand boy. Here to do what he couldn’t, but I’m not going to let you kill Q.”

Bond stiffened. 

Breathe in... 

Christ! Was that the final piece of the Osler puzzle? Praying they weren’t the last he ever made, Bond telegraphed his movements and turned around slowly. “Osler’s trying to _kill_ The Quartermaster?” 

The genuine surprise on Bond’s face had Alec taking a step back, but he did not lower the rifle. James Bond had always been the best snake charmer of the Double-Os, his craggy features and winning smile often doing more damage than a smart bomb, but Alec had always been able to see through the veneer. He could see that Bond knew something about what Osler had done to Ellery, but he didn't know the full extent of it. 

That didn’t mean he still wasn’t the enemy, though. 

“I’m sure Mallory didn’t bother to fill you in on any of those important details, did he James? We’re just good little Double-Os who follow orders, never questioning the outcomes of any of it!” Alec snapped.

“Alec, I haven’t spoken to Mallory. I know Osler is up to something, but I’m here on an entirely different matter. Mallory did **_not_ **send me!” James kept his hands far out from his sides, not wanting to provoke Alec any further that he already had, but it was clear Alec wasn’t hearing him.

“We’re all expendable, James. Or haven’t you figured that out yet. I never thought Six would see Q that way though. Can’t trust a fucking one of them anymore. Even Moneypenny…”

Breathe out... 

“Alec, if you’ll let me….”

“No, James.” Alec took a step forward and raised the butt of the rifle back onto his shoulder. He pressed the muzzle into the centre of Bond’s chest. “No explanations. Tell me who else knows we’re here.”

The look on Alec’s face was one James had never seen there before: Double-O icy determination plus something else. Bond had seen that 'something else' on his own face in the mirror only two times in his life, but he recognised the stalwart resoluteness to protect the one you held most dear. 

“You’re in love with him,” James breathed. Factual. To the point. No judgement. 

The muzzle jumped from Bond’s chest to his forehead. “Who. Else. Knows. We’re. Here!”

Breathe in... 

The situation was getting out of control. Alec’s emotions were balanced on a knife’s edge and with them Bond’s odds of living past the next 60 seconds. He cared about his friend, but Bond had no intention of having his brains blown out by an AR-15 on some Colorado mountain top. He slowly raised his arms out even more, if he could just …

“I’d think twice about that if I were you.” 

James stiffened at the sound of the unfamiliar voice behind him and again a moment later when the muzzle of a second rifle pressed into his back. 

“Afternoon, Alec,” the man said. His deep American drawl was casually pleasant despite the tense situation. “Grace called. Said you might need a spot of help out here.” The muzzle dug deeper into Bond’s back. “Seems she was right.” 

“Bob.” Alec did not pull his eyes from James’ as he nodded a greeting at the newcomer. “Is he safe?” 

“Yes,” Bob confirmed. “Bit banged up from the forest, but Grace says it’s nothing that won’t heal.”

“Is he here?”

Bond narrowed his eyes. It was clear Alec and this Bob we’re discussing the Quartermaster but how could he both be safe in another location and yet ‘here’?

“No. She can’t even get a glance her way but still ready to bug out with him if need be.”

“Supposed I should have expected that,” Alec sighed. Bond could see something flash just briefly across Alec’s face that he couldn’t quite read, still puzzled by the wording of the conversation between Alec and the new arrival, Bob.

“This here a friend of yours, Alec?” James could feel the muzzle held steady at his back.

Breathe out... 

“That’s still debatable.” Alec’s focus settled back on Bond. “He was at one time.” A phone chimed behind Bond. The muzzle never wavered at his back but it became clear that somehow Bob had checked a message. 

“Grace.” He commented to Alec. “Checking in.”

“Tell her to stay put for now.” Alec was not going to let Bond anywhere near Q or let him know where he was. If needed he was prepared to let Grace run with him. As much as he would hate it, if necessary, it needed to happen. 

“Alec if you’ll let me….

“No! Nothing to explain, and James, I think it's time to unload all the hardware I know you have. Weapon out of your shoulder holster first. Give it a good toss away on the ground.” Alec took a step back to give Bond some room to move. “Don’t even consider it, James. Remember, I know all your moves. You may be able to get one of us, but the other would splatter your pretty brains all over the dirt before you could strike twice.”

Breathe in... 

Bond slowly reached under his jacket and pulled out his weapon, giving a toss a few feet away.

“ **_All_ ** of them!” Alec demanded. “At your back, ankle, and the knives too.”

Soon there was a small pile of weapons on the ground next to a bed of tomato plants. Bond had even taken off his belt for the garrotte wire coiled inside the buckle along with his watch for the small explosive charge hiding within. Alec was right, there really was no point in him trying to conceal anything. He really did know all Bond’s moves. 

Bond tried to think of a way out of this situation that didn’t involve bloodshed, his or Alec’s, for though he was a killer, he’d rather not extend that to the man he considered his brother. Besides, no matter how intractable Alec was at the moment, Bond still had a Quartermaster to try and protect. 

Breathe out... 

“What do you want to do with him?” Bob asked, kicking the last of Bond’s knives toward the tomatoes. 

Alec stared at Bond a long time. The micro expressions that twitched across his face told Bond his old friend really wasn’t sure but knew he had to do something. 

His old friend. 

Friend. 

Finally, Bond had it. 

Breathe in... 

“Felix Lieter is dead. Murdered for bringing me information about someone who I now think wants to abduct The Quartermaster and abuse his talents. He died trying to protect Q.”

Breathe out... 


	97. Home Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you live in one place for so long -- nearly 100 years -- you know every nook and cranny. Every creak and moan. Every squeak in the floorboards or on the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Alec and Bond have been reunited! It only took 96 chapters for that to happen, but from what you all had to say, you felt it was worth the wait. 🎉
> 
> Your comments were fabulous! Thank you all for every last one of them. We've picked up a few new fans in the last few weeks, and Boffin and I would like to say "Welcome!" We are so happy that you've joined us. Especially those of you who have binge-read because you say you couldn't put the story away. The image of you sneaking in reads at work or staying up late ... it's fabulous and amazing! We are humbled. 💕
> 
> So, without further ado, it's time for the Friday update! Do let us know what you think!

Miriam Mikelson had been born and raised in Devil’s Gulch. She’d grown up in a loving family there. Went off to school at a time when most women didn’t. Graduated with high honours with a nursing degree. War service called, and Miriam did her time caring for the sick and wounded in conflict and combat in Europe, eventually returning to Devil’s Gulch to efficiently and compassionately serve her community. Worldly wise and changed by her experiences. 

She buried her parents, her brother, and a younger sister in the local cemetery. Lived in the same home for all her years. First with her parents, caring for them as they aged. And then, as her own home as she aged herself. Alone, but never lonely.

When you live in one place for so long -- nearly 100 years -- you know every nook and cranny. Every creak and moan. Every squeak in the floorboards or on the stairs. Every change in the air flow of the house. The feel of when the heat was going to kick on in the winter or knowing what windows to open for the best breeze during the summer. What noises and things were outside your house....

and what was inside. 

So when you come home from that important church/coffee/gossip meeting with the ladies at Raven’s Roast, you can feel it.  
  


You know there is something different inside your house. 

The dynamic is wrong. 

The flow is off. 

You know when there has been someone inside your house. Or is still inside your house. 

Miriam was indignant. How dare they! Grabbing up one of her heavier canes from the stash just inside the front door, Miriam armed herself, ready to deal with this trespass. 

How dare they! Insufferable!

She scanned the sitting room. Empty.

Poked her nose inside the bathroom off the main hallway. No one, their either.

Inside the closet beneath the stairs? No.

Miriam’s indignation only grew with each empty space, however. She knew there was someone here! She knew it and she would beat them about the head and shoulders with her cane for daring to --

A lovely and very pregnant Siamese cat wandered out of the kitchen as if it was at home, meowed at Miriam, showed her backside, and with a flick of her tail, sauntered back into the kitchen as if she owned it.   
  


“Come here Sweetie.” Miriam cooed at the cat. “Are you looking for someplace safe to have your babies?”

Miriam followed the creature back towards her kitchen. That’s when the silhouette of an ATV parked in her backyard caught her eye out the window. And she nearly tripped over a pair of scruffy, red tennis shoes attached to skinny legs that stuck out from underneath her kitchen table. Tennis shoes she knew. 

“Ellery? What on earth…” Miriam peered underneath the large, heavy wooden table. 

He was pushed back as far as he could get against the wall beneath the table, a duffle bag clutched to his chest, hoodie pulled far over his face. 

“Ellery… son… are you alright?” Miriam pushed a chair out of the way to get a better look at the young man huddled in the shadow of the table. “Why don’t you come up here, and I’ll fix us some tea and cookies. I baked your favorite chocolate, chocolate chip cookies just this morning. How about I get us some?” Miriam stepped away from the table, but only a few feet, to grab her phone. 

She pressed speed dial #1. 

“Grace. Yes dear. I have a little situation here.” Miriam remained calm and spoke softly, for she sensed making any kind of fuss would spook Ellery even more than he already was.

“I have one of those ATV things in my backyard,” she continued, “a pregnant cat in my kitchen, and a very silent Ellery hiding under the table. He also seems to be bleeding.” She held the phone out away from her ear for a moment. Definitely didn’t need her hearing aids for this conversation, and listened to her niece’s shocked outburst echo from the other end of the line. “Yes, dear. That would be lovely, Grace,” she said when her niece had calmed a bit. “We’ll see you soon.”

Miriam disconnected the call, returning her focus to her visitor. 

“How about I see to those cookies? Maybe some ice cold milk with them instead of tea. Fresh from Jensen’s dairy this morning.” Though Ellery did not respond, the cat began yowling with interest the moment the word milk was uttered. “Yes… yes… some milk for you too, Ms Kitty. Need to pamper those kittens.”


	98. Story Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Felix hadn’t put all the pieces together yet, but he knew the photos were significant when he came to me, Alec. Gut feeling that he couldn’t just go directly to Mallory yet, either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Thanksgiving Week here stateside, and since we will not have another update until after Turkey Day has passed, I want to take a moment to say what I am thankful for. 🦃
> 
> I am thankful for you, our dear readers. Your comments and enthusiasm has sustained us through the long months of this pandemic. I am thankful for the way you have engaged with not only the story but with each other, forming a needed support system through your love these characters and their lives. It's a precious thing. I am thankful for Alec and Ellery and Grace and Bob and Miriam ... they speak in ways I never anticipated and have made writing this story a true joy. I am thankful for Ashe, the best of Alphas to whom we gifted this tale. And I am thankful for my co-author, Boffin. I couldn't do this without him. Nor would I want to. He's the heart and soul of this story. Poppies, Boffin. Always the poppies. 🌺
> 
> Whether you celebrate it or not, I wish you all the happiest of Thanksgivings. Be well, dear ones. 💕
> 
> Now for our Tuesday update ... It's a short one, but do let us know what you think.

Bond sat at the table with two guns trained on him, and Alec couldn’t help but think about the irony of the situation. The kitchen table where he and Ellery sat every day, happy and content -- having vanished from Six -- and now, here was Six sat at their table disrupting their lives, once again. The very thing they’d been so desperate to escape had come to dinner.

Alec could have shot him. Probably  _ should  _ have shot him.

But he had listened to Bond’s tale, instead. 

“Felix hadn’t put all the pieces together yet, but he knew the photos were significant when he came to me, Alec. Gut feeling that he couldn’t just go directly to Mallory yet, either.”

“So Felix is dead.” Alec’s stare never left Bond’s face whilst he spoke as if trying to read every small expression, looking for the smallest of cracks in Bond’s story.

“Very much so,” Bond said. He didn’t bother to hide his regret. Felix had been a good man. As good as any of them could be given what they did for a living.

“Let me see the photos,” Alec demanded.

Bond held both hands out slowly, palms up, before moving one hand to reach into his shirt pocket. He laid them all out openly on the table but slid one specific photo farther across the table towards Alec. 

“It’s Q. A lot younger. But there’s no mistaking that it’s him.”

Alec ignored the others spread out before him and picked up the photo he was interested in, studying it carefully before turning it toward Bob for him to see it. 

It was definitely Ellery.

“Bob... watch him. If he makes even the slightest move, feel free to shoot him. Need verification of death.” Bob smiled coldly and trained his rifle so it was pointed directly at Bond’s forehead. 

“Still don’t trust me yet, Alec?” Bond sighed.

“I’m not the one who disappeared with that Spectre bitch, leaving the rest of us to pick up the pieces of his mess. A mess with bigger implications than you are even aware of.”

“Point taken.” He supposed he deserved that. If he had been Alec, he probably would have felt betrayed, also. 

Alec plucked a small mobile phone from a basket on the main worktop -- a burner -- then stepped deeper into the kitchen, away from the table. Bob heard the conversation go on behind him in what sounded like Russian. It continued back and forth for a few moments before Alec paused in the conversation, “Oh, and James,” Bob heard the pride in Alec’s tone, “Don’t even think about trying to get the jump on Bob. If he’d been born British, he’d have been a Double-O.”

The smile Bob flashed James was equal parts confident and menacing, and from the way in which he had handled himself since arriving at the cabin, Bond had no reason to disbelieve Alec’s assertion about the large man’s skill. He eased back in the chair, keeping his hands flat on the table and his eyes firmly on Bob. 

He’d bide his time. 

Breathe in.

For now.

But as Alec made his calls to sources he clearly still trusted, Bond let his eyes wander, assessing the interior of the cabin. Not for an escape route, but to get a sense of the two men who had lived in it for the last nine months. When they’d brought him inside, he’d noticed the extra locks on the doors and the small armory of weapons in the gun cupboard in the main room as well as the one atop the fridge. And there were, of course, other odds and telling ends about -- knives, bits of tech and tech components, the CCTV camera feed on the tablet at the end of the worktop, and, given this was Alec Trevelyan, undoubtedly explosives hidden somewhere within -- that spoke to the nature of their jobs, but for the most part, the cabin was … lived in. 

Warm, knitted throws were scattered on the sofa and the chairs. There were baskets filled with produce on the kitchen worktops and a cooking show still streaming on the telly. A garrote had been strung up between the edges of the kitchen window with what appeared to be recipes hanging from it by clips. Bond could even catch the faint scent of fabric softener in the air. 

This wasn’t just a safe house. 

It was a  _ home _ .

Breathe out.

Alec ended his call as Bond came to his realisation.

“Your story checks out.” Alec said to James. He walked back toward the table and put his hand on Bob’s shoulder. Bob lowered his weapon but did not completely ease his stance. “Felix Leiter was found dead in his hotel room by housekeeping at the Grand Palladium Jamaica Resort seven weeks ago. The way in which he was tortured indicated someone was trying to get information out of him. One James Bond returned to London on a British Airways flight which landed at Heathrow two days after Leiter’s body was discovered.”

Alec leaned his hands on the table, staring Bond down.

“So the only question now is, where have you been  _ since _ , James?”

Breathe in.

“Where the hell do you think I've been?! Trying to find you, you absolute wanker!”

  
  
  
  
  



	99. Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Head and face wounds do bleed so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🖤💜🖤 Without Being Told: Black Friday Edition!!!!! 🖤💜🖤
> 
> It's the best possible Black Friday Deal. It's free and you don't have to leave your home to get it! Sounds like a win/win to us! 🎁💸
> 
> Do let us know what you think. We crave every comment more than leftover pumpkin pie. Or in Dassandre's case, cherry pie. 🍒 It was seriously good cherry pie, too, but comments are better. 💗💗

“Ellery? Please come out from there. “ Grace knelt, peering under Miriam’s kitchen table. “You’re safe here, Ellery. Aunt Miriam has cookies, and I’d like to have a look at you.” Ellery made no response to her cajoling. He stared blankly at the seat of the chair he was pushed up against, not even acknowledging there were others in the room with him. 

The only sound that came from under the table was the constant, rumbling purr of Cat who took great pleasure in kneading Ellery’s thigh before curling up in his lap. 

“Here’s the first aid kit, Grace. I couldn’t get down there with him, but it looks like the poor boy has a nasty gash on his forehead.” Miriam placed the well-stocked kit on the table. Grace had left Raven’s Roast in such a rush she’d left her own behind. “Head and face wounds do bleed so,” Miriam continued. Expertly balancing her weight on her cane, she bent at the waist and surveyed her great-nephew’s appearance again. “Yes. That sweatshirt will need to be soaked in cold salt water or it will stain.”

“Least of our worries at the moment, Aunt Miriam.” Grace sat back on her calves, pushed two chairs aside, then crawled under the table with Ellery. If he wouldn’t come out to her, she would go in with him. Miriam was right. His head needed tending. 

As she settled herself on the wooden floor beneath the table, Grace heard the scrape of china being pulled from the cabinet to the right of the sink and the gentle clunk of cookies being plated on it. It was a familiar sound, one she associated with safety and love. She hoped it would have the same effect on Ellery. 

“Here, maybe this will help.” Sure enough, her aunt’s gnarled hand slipped a plate of chocolate, chocolate chip cookies onto the seat of the chair across from Ellery. “If all else fails, try bribery.”

Grace couldn’t help but smile at her aunt’s simple but usually effective advice. Her smile grew broader when she pushed back his fringe to look at the wound, and Ellery tentatively reached out a hand to snag one of the cookies from the plate. He chewed absently as Grace poked and prodded his head. That Ellery had enough of a presence in this world to take the cookie was excellent, but he still didn’t meet her eyes. Nor did he cat a response to any of her questions about what had happened at the cabin or in the forest. 

Grace sighed and rubbed her face. Baby steps. She just hoped they weren’t baby steps from square one. Ellery was clearly traumatised by his experience, but until Alec or Bob contacted her again, she’d have to wait to get her answers. 

Scratched and scraped and bloodied from his trip through the forest, Ellery was a mess. The crack he’d taken to his forehead seemed to be the most serious of his wounds, however. In addition to the bleeding, he had a notable knot on his forehead, the bruising from which was already apparent, but he also was protecting his left hand. He had it tucked closely to his chest. Grace took it gently in hers and carefully palpated each finger; the fourth and fifth were broken and his wrist was sprained. She slid out from beneath the table and grabbed the first aid kit, but before she went back under, Miriam pressed a flashlight into her hand.

“You’ll need this too, dear. A tad dark under there to patch him up otherwise, I think. You get on with it and I’ll have lunch ready by the time you’re done.” Miriam turned and began pulling sandwich fixings from the fridge.

“Thank you, Auntie.” Grace quickly set up shop beneath the table. She clicked on the flashlight, adjusted the head to widen the beam, and set it on its base on the floor next to Ellery’s hip so she had the best light to work with under the circumstances. Popping open the kit, she began sorting through its contents, making mental adjustments to her treatment plan based on what was on hand.

Ellery had started on a second cookie by the time Grace pulled out everything she needed to clean and bandage his head wound. He sat passively, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. Cat purred in his lap, watching every move Grace made with her blue eyes. He needed stitches, but Miriam’s kit wasn’t as complete as her own, and getting Ellery to the hospital wasn’t an option right now. With whatever was going on out at the cabin, Grace had to be ready to run with him at a moment’s notice, but she certainly wasn’t going to fall back on Alec’s version of frontier medicine and use dental floss or sewing thread like he’d apparently done so many times in the field. Butterfly bandages would have to do for now. 

Once she had most of the blood cleaned up, the wound bandaged, and the gauze covering it secured, Miriam’s hand appeared again, this time holding out several popsicle sticks. “Thank you, Auntie,” Grace said. She placed the sticks on the chair next to the cookies, and dug about in the kit again, gathering what she needed to set the broken bones in El’s fingers and wrap his wrist. 

She took Ellery’s left hand in hers. “This is going to hurt a little, Ellery. There’s nothing I can do about that. I’m sorry.” Cat nudged Grace’s thigh with her head before rolling over on her back for Ellery to rub her pregnant belly. Grace was relieved when he reached out with his uninjured hand and tangled his fingers in the soft fur.

“You’re a good girl, Cat. Thank you for always looking out for him, love.” 

Grace reset the bones and lashed them together with popsicle sticks and medical tape as quickly as she could. She knew from personal experience how much it could hurt, breaks like this. She’d taken more than one spill off her bike and down a mountainside in her life, but Ellery didn’t so much as flinch. It reminded her far too much of the day she had met him, and his hand had been badly scalded by hot water for his tea. 

Buried so deep in his alternate world, he’d not shown any reaction to  _ that  _ pain, either.

Grace’s worry rose.

  
  
  
  
  



	100. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not here on anyone’s order or behest. My only concern is the Quartermaster’s safety. I owe him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Hannah!
> 
> CHAPTER 100!!!! Chapter 100! Wow ... just wow! When we initially set out with this idea, Boffin and I thought ten chapters ... maybe 15. Thing is, we both tend to write long things, and when two writers who write long things decide to collaborate you get, well, an epic, apparently LOL
> 
> An epic journey on which each of you have decided to tag along. Some have been around since the beginning, others since last week (bless you, binge readers!). Boffin and I are grateful for each of you and for every last comment and kudos you have given. 
> 
> Knowing what you are about to read, it's probably appropriate that it comes with the tag of Chapter 100. It's a bigun!
> 
> Do let us know what you think. Comments continue to be the food which sustains us. 
> 
> We hope you enjoy.

“How did you find all that out in a couple phone calls when it took me seven weeks to trace you and Q?” James huffed, annoyed at the ease with which Alec had been able to confirm his story.

Alec relaxed a little at James’ familiar, petulant grumble, but he didn’t let his guard down entirely. “Because I’ve always been better than you,” he replied, not entirely taking the piss. “Could _you_ have kept Six in the dark for all this time?”

Bond’s silence was his answer.

“Are you going to trust him?” Bob still had his weapon trained on Bond. 

“Don’t know. Should I trust you, James?” Alec came to stand at the table once more. He and Bond met each other’s eyes unflinchingly. “A lot of history between us, but it’s just not my life at stake.”

Whatever was between Alec and Q, he could see that his friend was more 006 than Alec at the moment and would protect his asset at all costs. Bond needed to choose his next words carefully. 

“I’m not here on anyone’s order or behest. My only concern is the Quartermaster’s safety. I owe him.” His tone turned reflective. “Far more than I realised.” 

Bond leaned back in his chair and kept his hands flat on the table top. Trying to show he was not a threat though he knew he still was in Alec’s mind. “I did go to MI6,” he admitted. “It was my first logical stop, but I had no idea either of you were gone. When Tanner told me what had happened, showed me the video footage, I knew I couldn’t share the intel Felix gave me. I think I still trust Tanner, but I felt there was something else going on. Scarlett intercepted me before I could leave Six, told me her concerns about Mallory and her suspicions of Osler. We decided to split our focus. She stayed in London to root out what was going on inside Six, and I left to start my hunt for the two of you. You should know Scarlett’s a tad frantic about Q.”

Alec studied Bond a moment more. He’d listened not just to James’ words but what was behind and beneath them as well as his manner and mien as he told his story. “Stand down, Bob. I trust him,” Alec’s decision was followed with a warning grin James knew all too well. The ‘for now’ hung unspoken in the air between them. James knew he wasn’t entirely off the hook, nor should he be. There was much to atone for. He just hoped he’d get the chance.

At Alec’s declaration, Bob secured his weapon and held out his hand. 

“Bob Gibson.”

“James Bond.”

Alec rolled his eyes as his two friends shook hands. “Scarlett will have to get used to doing without Q,” he said. “They all will. He’s not going back.  _ We’re _ not going back.”

James still didn’t quite understand the why of that, so he added, “And from what she told me, Papava, the whole of the Double-O corps, and nearly all the senior intelligence officers are ready to mutiny if Mallory tries to force you back.”

“Mallory can fucking piss off!” Alec snarled. 

“Scarlett shared what she knew about what had happened to Q, including your joint resignations. Tried to explain what she’d seen from him first hand. What she couldn’t or maybe wouldn’t tell me,” Bond said, keeping his voice measured as though Alec hadn’t just scooped a K-Bar knife off the island worktop and stabbed the tabletop with it in his anger, “is why.” 

“Why? James... he’s not...” Alec scrubbed a hand through his hair, a tell that James knew only ever came out when Alec was feeling something deeply and not entirely certain how to process or express it. “He’s not Q anymore. Not the Quartermaster you knew.” He planted his palms on the table top and leaned over, closer to Bond. “Mallory was all but ready to give up on him. Ready to send him away to a vetted treatment facility after only a couple of weeks. Only giving him a short time to recover or they would retire him.  _ Retire  _ him, James. You know what that means. Couldn’t let that happen.“ 

Alec wandered the kitchen poking a little things lying around that James was pretty sure belonged to Q. “He can’t be Quartermaster any more, James.”

“Scarlett is ready to rally the rest of the Double-Os behind him. They’re of the mind that since Q had protected them for so long, it was their time to stand up for him. But for all that Scarlett shared, it was vague at best,” Bond commented. “Alec. Explain it to me. What’s going on?”

“Can’t explain. Even if I tried, you still wouldn’t understand.” Alec turned to Bob. “Get Grace on the phone.”

“Are you sure? With what Alec had told him about their escape from London, Bob was hesitant to risk Ellery with someone else from MI6, retired or not, but if Alec trusted Bond...

“He has to  _ see  _ Q to understand.” Alec hoped he was making the right decision, but James needed to see Ellery in person to understand, and Alec needed El back with him at the cabin. To see he was okay. To know he was safe. To run together if it came to that. “Call her.”

An hour later, James and Alec sat shoulder to shoulder propped against the boot of Bond’s car. Neither man looked at the other. Kept their eyes trained down the drive that led to the cabin from the main road. Bob stood off closer to the porch. He’d stowed his rifle but now wore a Sig Sauer P320 in a holster on his hip. He wasn’t letting his guard down for this in spite of what Alec had said.

It was late afternoon and dark clouds were gathering over the mountain tops to the west. The gentle breeze that had been blowing most of the day kicked up, heralding the approaching thunderstorm. 

“It’s good to see you, Alec,” James said.

Alec didn’t reply. 

Anyone else might have been unsettled by the lack of response, but not James. Knew his brother was processing all that had happened in the last few hours, but it was more than that. He seemed pensive. Disquieted. Whatever Grace Mikelson had told him on the phone an hour ago had not sat well with Alec. He’d exchanged a few cryptic words with Bob — “not present”, “hiding”, “other world” — which the other man seemed to understand if the worried look that crossed his face was anything to go by, but Alec provided no explanation when James had asked what he meant. Nor had he said anything further about why James needed to see Q to understand that going back to MI6 was not an option. 

They were waiting for the Quartermaster’s arrival. Grace had called again fifteen minutes ago to say they were finally in the car and on their way to the cabin. When James questioned the delay, Alec had only glared in response and stalked out the door and across the yard to Bond’s car where he’d been waiting ever since. 

A tone sounded from Alec’s smart watch. He stood up straight and looked at James with a patented Trevelyan glare so fierce it almost had Bond unsettled. 

Almost. 

Bond heard the distant sound of a vehicle coming up the long, dirt drive. Q’s security system must have alerted Alec to their approach. 

“Stay here.” Alec said as a Subaru Outback rounded the final bend in the road, slowed, and tyres crunching on the dirt, came to a stop some 50 metres beyond Bond’s car. “Don’t even think of coming with me. I need to talk to him first. I’ll bring him up to the cabin when I think he’s ready.”

“Alec …” James followed him a few steps but came to an abrupt halt when Alec spun on him, his own Sig drawn and pointed in James’ face. 

“I reckon I still trust you, James. You are my friend, after all, but for once in your life stay the  _ fuck _ where you’re told. If you traumatise him any more than he already is, I will shoot you. I don’t care if you are my friend.”

Bond raised his hands in surrender and stepped backwards to his car. When his arse was again propped against the boot, Alec holstered his weapon, turned and walked toward the car where Grace stood with a hand on the bonnet. The glare of disdain she gave Bond was clear even from a distance, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Alec had told her about him.

“How is he, Grace?” Alec pulled her into a quick hug. 

Grace Mikelson’s reply drifted to Bond on the wind but made little sense. “Not good but better than when I first found him. Was nearly impossible to get him out from under Aunt Miriam’s kitchen table. Cat was finally the one to lure him out. He still hasn’t said anything, but he’s made eye contact a few times, so he’s not as deeply entrenched as he was earlier.”

James watched Alec make his way to the passenger side of the Outback and opened the door. Surprisingly, a very vocal and heavily pregnant Siamese hopped out, rounded the front of the vehicle and waddled past James towards the cabin. The contemptuous flick of her tail in his direction suggested he was not in her good graces any more than he was in Dr. Mikelson’s.

James turned his attention away from the cat to see Alec lean inside where James spotted a mop of hair that could only belong to Q. After a few moments, Alec appeared to reach across him, unbuckling the safety belt, but once that was done, neither seemed to make any further movements towards exiting the vehicle.

“Be patient. It can be a slow process.” Bob appeared just off to his left. “Can take Ellery a bit of extra time to do things depending on the day, and since he’s had a fright...” 

“Ellery?” Bond questioned but didn’t take his eyes off the scene playing out at the car down the road.

“Yes, Ellery. That’s his name. You didn’t know that?” James filed that away. He’d assumed it was just an alias the forger had created for Q, not his real name. Another piece to the increasingly complicated puzzle that was The Quartermaster. 

Just then Alec stepped back from the car. He had one hand wrapped around one of Q’s and Q slowly exited the vehicle, extremely tentative. White bandages stood out on his forehead. His left hand and wrist were also bandaged. Alec gently pulled Q into a lingering hug, placing a kiss to the bandages on his head. One arm was wrapped around his waist, and the other cradled the back of Q’s head, winding into his dark curls. 

Q pressed into the contact. His right hand gripped the back of Alec’s light jumper. When their embrace ended, Alec said something in Q’s ear. The Quartermaster turned his head in Bond’s direction but did not make eye contact. In fact, it seemed as if he could barely keep his head up. A far cry from the energetic man he’d been watching the last several days to say nothing about the ever-alert Quartermaster Bond had worked with for nearly two years. 

Had he been medicated for his injuries? 

Alec finished whatever he needed to say and the two made their way back to the cabin, Q with his right hand gripped in Alec’s shirt. Alec kept his arm around Q’s waist and seemed to be almost supporting him. 

When it looked as though the pair was going to continue on to the cabin without so much as a greeting from Q, Bond stepped into their path and in a loud, slightly sarcastic voice reminiscent of the one he used so often when they’d been on comms together said, “Hello, Q! I’ve missed you!”

Though James hadn’t reached toward him, Q cried out and reared back as if he’d been struck. He jumped behind Alec’s larger frame, burying his face between Alec’s shoulder blades. 

And then all Hell broke loose. 


	101. In the Dirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’ll just make things worse for Ellery! He’s already retreated. Ellery does not need this!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many wonderful comments for the last chapter! Thank you all for the kind words for the work and the congratulations on reaching our big milestone of 100 chapters!
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter but hopefully just as intense. For as many of you pointed out, James has A LOT to learn. The dolt! 🙄🙄💕💕
> 
> Do let us know what you think! Happy Friday!!

Alec punched Bond in the face, sending him reeling against the car. “I warned you, James. “ Alec lunged for him again, but with Ellery clinging to his back in fear, he couldn’t gain the ground he needed. Grace and Bob both jumped in the fray. Bob trying to herd James away from them. Grace trying to reason with Alec. 

“Alec stop! You’ll just make things worse for Ellery,” Grace yelled at him. She grabbed his arm, trying to shake him from his need to tear Bond’s throat out. “He’s already retreated. Ellery does  _ not  _ need this. Will make it all worse.”

But it was the sudden absence of Ellery’s grip that brought Alec around. He spun around to find that El had pulled away, eyes unfocused. Hands limp at his sides. 

“Fuck! Ellery!” Alec gently cupped his face with both hands, lifting it up, trying to get some kind of reaction out of him, some small semblance of focus, but there was none. He clasped Ellery to him for a brief moment, then pushed him toward Grace. “Get him inside! Now!”

“The fuck, Alec?!” James pressed the back of his wrist to his bleeding nose.

Grace gently took a hold of Ellery, steering him towards the cabin, glaring daggers at Bond as she passed. She’d bide her time with the asshole. For now. Ellery came first.

Once Ellery was inside the cabin, Alec rushed Bond, had him against the bonnet of the car, forearm pressed hard to his throat before James could stop him. “I told you! I fucking  _ told _ you he wasn’t the same. To give him space. NOT TO SCARE HIM!” he seethed.

When it became clear that Alec had no intention of letting him breathe again, James bashed Alec against the side of his head with the point of his elbow and slid out from underneath him. He took two steps backward before lunging at Alec, tackling him in the middle and taking him to the ground. 

They rolled together, feet scratching and scraping at the dirt, kicking up twigs and leaves as they pummelled one another with punches, gouges, and head butts. A jab to the midsection left James gasping for breath again but a crack of his head against the wheel rim of the car left Alec seeing stars. 

Still they fought. The two friends gave each other no quarter. Alec to punish, James to—

A gunshot sounded through the air. 

“Enough!” 

Alec and James each scrambled to their feet, Double-O instincts kicking in as they searched for the new threat. All they found was Bob, Sig pointed in the air, anger distorting his normally kind face. 

“Enough!” he said again. “Do tell me how in the  _ fuck _ you two going at one another helps Ellery in the least?”

Alec and James were both panting. Nevertheless, still riding the adrenaline high, they were clearly ready to resume their attack. 

“Don’t even think about it. Either of you.” Bob threatened. “I am not above shooting one or both of you and leaving you out here in the dirt. See how good you are at crawling back into the cabin to get help.”

“I warned you James. “ Alec hissed at Bond. “You couldn’t fucking listen!” 

“Alec!” Bob warned him. “Ellery needs you right now. You can punch this asshole later.”

“Alec! Explain this to me so I understand. What did I just see? That wasn’t the Q I remember,” James pleaded between sucking in lungfuls of air. Fucking altitude was going to kill him if Alec or Bob didn’t.

“Oh! Now you want to listen to what I’ve been trying to tell you all bloody afternoon? Well, fuck you, James!” Alec brushed himself off and stomped towards the cabin, Bob and James trailing along behind. Alec stopped on the front porch before heading in and spun to face Bond.

“He’s like this half the time. The rest of the time, he’s more lucid and... fuck. He has a vocabulary of six bloody words, James! Six! Only two of which he uses with any frequency.” Alec started to open the door but turned back to Bond. 

“Stay or go. I don’t give a fuck either way, but I’m done trying to explain things to you. It’s wasted breath because not once in your life have you ever put someone else’s needs before your own. But if you do stay, Do. Not. Upset. Him. Again. Or I will make you regret it, James.” 

The screen door slammed in its housing behind Alec, leaving James standing on the porch with an armed Bob on the stairs behind him. 

“Come with me, Bond. Ellery’s go-bag is likely in the car, and then we’ll make sure Cat is fed. If you manage not to find a way to piss me off in the next five minutes, I might be willing to explain a few things to you.”

“And if I do manage to piss you off?” the words were out of Bond’s mouth before he could call them back, but it seemed par for the course for his day.

“I guarantee it will hurt, and I promise that they won’t find your body.”

James barked with unexpected laughter at the honest, and quite likely accurate, response. “Fair enough, Bob. Fair enough.”


	102. The First Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a right mess. Bloodied and covered in dirt,” Grace said, this time nodding at the en suite. “You don’t want him seeing you like this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I can ... I think I can ... I think I can ...
> 
> Two weeks to go before this first semester of the 2020-2021 school year comes to an end. Bar none, the hardest semester for any educator in the history of ever, I think. You have all been so supportive in so many ways, but if I seem a tad frazzled between now and December 18th, you know why. These are always the toughest two weeks of the semester to get through, but even more so this year. 
> 
> I need to thank Boffin1710 (my dearest co-author) and AsheTarasovich (to whom this story is gifted) for their ceaseless support of me this semester. At my lowest points they have reminded me that I am a good teacher, and that it's the circumstances that are pure shit, not me. And given that their lives have been equally insane, if not more so, that they have carved out that time and found that energy to haul me up is a testament to the amazing people they are. 💕💗
> 
> So for their sake and sanity, as well as mine, do keep those comments coming. They are so very helpful. You can't imagine how much.
> 
> Anyhoo ... enough of all that. You're here for a much more important reason: The Tuesday Update! 🎉🎉
> 
> Do let us know what you think!

Alec stalked into the bedroom he shared with Ellery, but Grace stopped him with a gentle hand on his chest before he took more than two steps beyond the threshold. He hadn’t exactly been quiet coming up the stairs. 

“Not like this, Alec. Not until you calm down.”

Alec scowled down at her and pushed her hand from his chest. “Grace …”

“Look at him, Alec. Really _look_ at him.” She gripped his arm instead and nodded over her shoulder at the form curled up on the bed. “I’ve settled him. He’s okay for now, but he won’t be if you go to him as anything less than perfectly calm and in control.”

Ellery’s eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly and deeply. Alec would have thought him asleep except that he was stroking Cat’s pregnant belly with his good hand. Alec could hear her purr from where he stood. His shoulders sagged and he deflated a bit. He took Grace’s hand in his though he did not look away from El. 

“You’re a right mess. Bloodied and covered in dirt,” she said, this time nodding at the en suite. “You don’t want him seeing you like this. Go in. Shower. Get cleaned up and shake this off. I’ll stay with him til you’re done.”

Alec’s jaw tightened in indecision but then he nodded curtly and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Ten minutes later he was clean and reasonably calm. Alec was still pissed off at James, but the blind rage he’d felt when the arse had scared Ellery had dissipated. He might actually allow Bond to live. 

He wiped down the fogged up mirror with a towel and evaluated the damage: a few decent scrapes on his cheekbone and a cut high up on his forehead. James had got a few good punches in and that crack to his head had left him with a bit of a headache. Alec applied some ointment to the cut and affixed two butterfly plasters to it. Normally he wouldn’t bother, but Ellery was likely to fuss. He popped a few paracetamol for his head and tugged on a clean pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt he found waiting for him next to the sink, stepping out into the bedroom as Grace pulled the door shut behind her as she left to give them some privacy. 

Alec sat down on the mattress next to Ellery’s knees. He was still curled up in a ball on his side, but Cat had relocated. She and her pregnant bulk were snuggled up against the small of El’s back. She opened one blue eye to glare at Alec as if to say ‘about bloody time you got here’ but closed it without comment for once. Her purring never abated. 

Alec slid his fingers into Ellery’s curls and caressed his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. Ellery opened his eyes. Alec huffed a breath of relief at the sight of mostly focussed green eyes looking up at him. 

“I’m proud of you, El. You did good bugging out.” Alec kept a calm even voice with him “Looks like you got a little banged up though. We should have Doc Webb look at those fingers.” Ellery continued to stare up at him. Alec could see in his face and eyes that he was struggling to maintain his hold on being in the present, but he was managing so far.

“Maybe we’ll wait until morning for that if you can manage.” There was no indication from Ellery that what Alec was saying was even registering with him, not even a single verbal Cat.

“Ellery… You know I will always protect you, even from James, if need be.” Alec continued to quietly talk to him. “But James hasn't been sent here by Six. He’s not here to take you back. He may have pissed me off with how he greeted you, but I believe him and what he has told me.”

“I’m sorry he frightened you. James is sometimes ...” but he really didn’t know how to explain Bond anymore. With everything Alec now understood about himself, everything he could say about his friend amounted to little more than excuses rather than reasons, so he settled with, “… he just doesn’t understand what’s happened.“ Alec glanced down and realised that Ellery had dosed off. The entire ordeal had been draining for him in a lot of different ways. He dropped a lingering kiss next to the bandage on Ellery’s forehead and settled into his chair to keep watch for a tad.

“Sleep, El. We’ll sort this out more when you wake.”   
  


***~~* *~~* *~~* *~~***   
  


“Here. You look like you need this.” Bob nudged James’ shoulder with a glass of whisky. James stared blankly at it, like he’d never seen alcohol before, then shook himself and took the glass, downing half of it in a single swallow. 

“Thank you,” he said when the burn in his throat eased.

Bob nodded and poured himself and Grace each several fingers of Macallan and placed the bottle in the centre of the table. He passed Grace her glass, then took a seat adjacent to Bond. Grace, however, continued to stand propped against the island worktop as she had since coming downstairs 20 minutes ago, unwilling to sit at the same table with James Bond.

The two sipped silently whilst James tried to make sense of what he’d been told. In all his years as an agent of Her Majesty's Secret Service he’d never been through a briefing as shocking and painful as the one Grace Mikelson had just wrapped up on The Quartermaster. 

“And so Q is just, what? Gone?”

“Not gone, no. Trapped. Disconnected. They’re more accurate words,” Grace replied, stiffly. Her recounting of Q’s situation had been more clinical and detached than anything the old M had ever shared. 

“And there’s no chance of him … reconnecting.”

“It’s unlikely.” 

James finished his drink in another swallow. Bob immediately refilled it. 

“It’s a lot to take in, I imagine,” he said with a shrug, “coming in so late in the game as this.”

“Just a tad.” James’ head was reeling with what he’d learned. Everything that had made Q **_Q_ ** locked away and disconnected: his focus, his brilliance, fuck, even his words? 

“Six, you said. Six words?!”

“Give or take.” Grace ran her finger along the rim of her glass, studying him. His reactions. She had made it clear she wasn’t fond of him, but then he’d hardly given anyone here cause. “Though you’ll likely only hear two with any great frequency: Alec and Cat. 

‘Alec’ he could understand but ‘Cat?!’

“Long story that Alec will need to tell you, but the short of it is ‘Cat’ is the primary word Ellery used to communicate everything from how he’s feeling to what he wants to eat for dinner to what he plans next for his garden,” Bob explained, taking up the narrative. 

“We’ve all grown skilled in Ellery’s catting, but Alec’s the only one who’s fluent,” Grace said with a smile that was for Bob alone. 

Alec came down the stairs, clean clothes and hair still damp from his shower. 

“He’s asleep with Cat.” Alec reached into a cupboard for a glass and passed it to Bob with a nod for a pour. “Thank you for patching him up, Grace. Hand probably needs looked at, though. Fingers cast better.”

Alec leaned back against the counter next to Grace, downing his drink, before extending it out to Bob for a refill. Making eye contact with Bond, he was met with a puzzled concerned look. Bond was trying to process what he had heard from Grace and Bob. He had questions… a lot of them. 

“Did what I could with Aunt Miriam’s first aid kit. Beneath the kitchen table is a bit far from an adequately stocked medical office.” Grace smiled at what a picture that would have made for someone watching them. 

“Can’t believe he went to Miriam’s instead of Bob’s. She alright? Not too freaked out by it all?” Alec questioned, suddenly realising the nonagenarian might have had a fright with Ellery appearing all of a sudden like that. 

“Please, Alec! This is Aunt Miriam we are talking about. She’s got more grit in her than all of us put together. Nothing phases that woman,” Grace chuckled, though Alec noted the usually musical sound was strained. “I’m going to go sit with Ellery for a bit,” she added. She sat her glass on the worktop behind her and pushed off it with her hip. “Quieter up there, and I need a break from the room.” She looked pointedly at Bond. James stood as she passed him, the manners his mum drilled into him so long ago kicking in for this woman who had clearly earned Alec’s trust and respect. 

“Dr. Mikelson, I want to-”

The first slap had James’ head snapping to the side from the force of it. The second split his lip and left him seeing stars. There was no third but only because Alec had stayed Grace’s hand. He held her wrist in a grip just tight enough that she couldn’t strike again but wouldn’t so much as bruise her. A grip she fought until Alec rumbled softly, “It’s okay, Grace. El’s okay. I’m alright, too.”

Alec waited until the tension in her frame and her rage-fueled breathing eased a tad before releasing her, but Grace tangled their fingers together and squeezed tightly as he did so. ‘Together,’ it said. ‘In this together.’ Then she dropped their hands and without so much as a second look at James Bond, who had taken a judicious step backwards after the second slap, crossed the room and climbed the stairs to the second level of the cabin.

“Take away from Lotus Blossom tonight,” she said over her shoulder, wearily. “Ellery will need the miso soup.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	103. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So what’s your plan?” James asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! It's FRIDAY!!!!
> 
> I know Boffin and I are each desperate for the weekend to arrive, and we imagine you all are, too.
> 
> First up, news of a programming change. 
> 
> Though we hate to do this, for the foreseeable future, we must drop down to only one update a week instead of two. 🥺 Life is simply kicking our arses all over Hell's Half-Acre, and we really don't see that changing anytime soon. Boffin and I like to keep a healthy buffer of chapters between us and the next update, and we just have not had the time to write as we would like to do. Consequently, the buffer is starting to dwindle, and neither of us is comfortable with that. You have all indicated more than once that so long as you get your Alec/Ellery fix (😉), you don't mind how often the updates come, and we can't say how much we appreciate that. 💕 It was a hard decision to come to, but it was a necessary one. 
> 
> We will update each week on Tuesday since we feel like it's a positive thing to see us all through the week.
> 
> Thank you for all your support and understanding. 💗
> 
> Without any further ado, here's your Friday update! We hope you enjoy it! 🎉🎉
> 
> Do let us know what you think.

James sipped at his whisky, legs stretched out before him. It was just past dusk. They’d eaten — takeaway Chinese — and talked more over the Lo Mein, Beef Broccoli, Sesame Chicken, egg rolls, and pot stickers. Bob had gone home shortly after, and Grace was somewhere inside, but James had seen no sign of The Quartermaster since she’d rushed him into the cabin hours ago. Grace had made sure Q had eaten. She’d come down long enough to make a tray for the two of them. Among the dishes, a mug of steaming miso soup for Q. 

Grace Mikelson. So much more than what his intel and observations of her at the coffee shop had indicated. So much more to her relationship with Q than doctor and patient. The way she had protected Q when ushering him into the cabin when they’d first arrived to details she’d shared about his condition. Always just enough to inform but never too much to be truly insightful.

And Christ but that woman had a vicious slap! 

Protective. 

Of Q.

Of Alec, too.

It was clear Alec and Q hadn’t just made friends in Devil’s Gulch.

They’d found a _family_.

James wasn’t quite sure what to do with the tightness he felt in his belly at that realisation, so he sipped at his whisky again, the cut to his lip stinging with the potency of the alcohol. He poked at it with the tip of his tongue and swiveled his jaw from side to side. Was lucky Grace hadn’t knocked a tooth loose, too.

He looked over at Alec who was sat next to him on the front porch of the cabin, looking out onto the garden that was illuminated by fairy lights and a series of outdoor lamps. 

“So what’s your plan?” James asked. 

“Don’t have one, yet. Can hardly take Ellery back to London.”

“And leaving him behind is not an option.”

It was not a question. With everything James had learned from Grace and had clarified by Alec, Q …  _ Ellery _ — God, that’d take some getting used to — was going to need to be cared for to some degree for the rest of his life.

Alec Trevelyan has taken it upon himself to be that someone.

James had had the right of it earlier when he said Alec had fallen in love with Q. Though he’d hardly admitted it, it came through in nearly everything Alec said about the younger man and their months together. James wasn’t sure how he felt about that, either. 

Oh, not about Alec and Q — fuck!! —  _ Ellery _ , to be sure. He wanted their happiness. God knew they deserved it.

But he wanted his own, too. 

James shook off those thoughts — of leaving Six, and of Madeleine, and of how it had all gone so bloody wrong. 

“You worry about taking care of Q. I'll take care of Osler,” James said. 

“Do you think Mallory knew?” Alec questioned, staring out over Ellery’s well tended garden. 

“Doubt it. Q’s value to MI6 is too important to Mallory. Even if Q wasn’t 100% Mallory would find a use for that genius somehow.” And Bond had that pinpointed exactly. Mallory knew what he had in the Quartermaster and would not let him go permanently so easily. 

Hence, the problem.

Bond picked up the bottle sitting on the small table between them gesturing at Alec to refill their glasses. “I do know one thing though, once the Double-Os find out about Q, they’ll be ready to go to war. Scarlett leading the pack. “

“Scarlett and Q always did have something special between them.” Alec chuckled. “Little shite… The stories he’d tell.”

The screen door creaked open and there stood Ellery illuminated by the light inside the cabin. He was clad in a pair of pyjama pants that barely stayed on his hips, clutching Cat in a death grip to his bare chest. Alec was instantly on his feet. 

“El?” One hand on a bare shoulder, the other gently cupping his chin, Alec peered into his eyes, hoping to see Ellery fully there, but he was struggling, grasping. Caught in between places. 

Grace appeared behind him. “Sorry Alec. He was so quiet. He was down the stairs and off for the door before I could get to him.” Alec knew all too well how quickly El could move. All the times he’d found Ellery out in the snow in frigid weather was testament to that.

“I’ve got him, Grace. Get some sleep yourself.” 

Ellery nestled in close, head tucked beneath Alec’s chin. Alec wrapped his arms about him. Cat, sandwiched between the two of them, did not protest. She was used to this, after all. 

“Feeling any better,” he asked in Ellery’s ear. El didn’t reply, but a slight shrug of his shoulders suggested ‘a tad, yes.’

Alec leaned back and tilted El’s face up again, using the dim light of the porch to search his eyes. “James would like to say hello, properly this time. Apologise for scaring you today. Up for it?”

Ellery’s eyes clouded over completely in that moment and Alec cursed himself. Of course El would want to hide. He’d been terrified countless times today. God only knew when he’d come back to himself fully. Be so completely present like he’d been yesterday when they’d sat together in the poppies. 

Assuming Ellery would ever be that present again.

Alec felt his anger at James surge. He’d managed to push it back, but if the bloody bastard had ruined —

“Cat, Alec.” The words were so quiet Alec nearly missed them over the swell of blood rushing through his ears. “Cat.” Ellery’s eyes were largely clear again. 

He’d fought for focus and found it. 

“Proud of you,”’Alec murmured a kiss against El’s temple. He turned around to face James who had stood up when Ellery came outside. He’d said nothing. Been so quiet it could have been easy to forget he was even there. 

If only. 

Alec felt the solid thump of Cat dropping to the ground and the brush of her head against his ankle before she faffed off into the garden. Ellery stayed flush against Alec’s back, however. The fingers of their right hands twined together. 

“James…”

“I’m sorry... Q... Ellery,” James stopped to correct himself. It would be an effort to not think of him as Q, but then again he clearly wasn’t anymore. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was pushy and loud before.”

Ellery clung to Alec, face buried between his shoulder blades. 

“It is good to see you,” James added, not approaching any closer. He had seen how unfocused Q had seemed when he found them on the porch. 

“It’s alright, El,” Alec tried to slowly pull Ellery around in front of him. “James is here to visit. It’s fine.”

“Alec has been telling me about your garden. I would love to see it.” It was obvious to James it was a work of love. Another clear indication that Alec and Q... bloody hell...  _ Ellery _ ... had chosen to settle here. 

“Ellery?” Alec finally coaxed him around. He refused to make eye contact with James, but tentatively looked up at Alec. “What do you think? Want to show it to him tomorrow?”

There was a long pause, then finally ...

“Cat.” It was just barely loud enough for James to hear, but even he could interpret it.

Okay.

  
  
  
  
  



	104. Garden Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he wandered, James couldn’t help but wonder if this was an external representation of the way Q’s/Ellery’s mind worked. There was something just so very Q about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Thank you all for your understanding in our need to drop to one update per week for awhile, but it was your urging that Boffin and I take a bit of a holiday with the Holidays that was truly kind. 
> 
> We are, therefore, going to take you all up on your suggestion. We're going to take the next two Tuesdays off to rest, recuperate, and hopefully build up our chapter buffer. We will be back to posting weekly on Tuesday, January 5, 2021. 💗💻🖋
> 
> We think this is a good chapter to leave you with for the time being. Boffin and I wish you nothing but happiness in the coming weeks as we spin ever closer to 2021. May the New Year be kinder to us all. 🎉🥂🍾🙏🏼🙏🏼
> 
> Do let us know what you think of the update. Your comments continue to sustain us. 💗

James pulled into the drive in front of the cabin. As he climbed out of the car, he half expected to be greeted by the muzzle of an AR-15 again, but instead Grace Mikelson stepped out onto the porch, coffee mug in hand and nodded at him when he approached. 

“Good morning, Commander Bond.” Her face was as stony as her voice. 

“James, please,” he smiled, turning on the full effect of his charm, hoping it would thaw the doctor’s icy resolve. He managed not to wince as he did so, though the cut to his lip from her slap still stung. 

“Alec is busy at the moment, but I believe Ellery is weeding the flower beds out on the far side of the barn, Commander.”

James grimaced inwardly. Charm had fallen flat. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” He turned toward the barn but her voice stayed him. 

“Commander Bond, I should not have struck you yesterday, and for that I do apologize.”

James looked up at her where she stood on the porch. He felt the winter in her assessing gaze. “I think there are many things for which apologies are needed right now, but none of them are yours,” he said after a moment. “You saw me as a threat, and you responded to that. You shouldn’t apologise for protecting your family.” 

Though the tension in Grace’s frame didn’t ease, James was nevertheless left with the impression that something had shifted between them. Did she trust him? Oh, hell no! But something in her eyes, in the way her brow ticked ever so slightly upward at his realisation of what Alec, Q, and she were to one other, told him that she might be willing to at least entertain the idea. 

She sipped her coffee. When she pulled the mug away from her mouth she said, “Alec and Bob aren’t the only ones who know how to fire a weapon. Something to keep in mind should you hurt or scare Ellery again, Commander Bond.” 

Grace disappeared back inside the cabin before he could reply, “Understood, ma’am,” so he turned and headed off into the garden, shaking his head as we went. Whatever force it was that decided to throw Alec and Q into Grace Mikelson’s path was either bloody brilliant or barking mad.

Probably both.

The garden, however, was amazing. Easily one of the most carefully tended James had ever seen. The balance and harmony between vegetable plants and flower beds was elegant, beautiful, and soothing in a way that seeped into his very being. As he wandered, James couldn’t help but wonder if this was an external representation of the way Q’s/Ellery’s mind worked. There was something just so very Q about it.

James was pulled from his inspection of a Morning Glory bough by a loud meow. He looked down and found a pair of fierce blue eyes staring up at him. 

“You seem as pleased to see me this morning as Grace.” Cat meowed again, flicked her tail, and pranced off farther down the path past the barn. James followed, knowing full well she would lead him to Q. 

Last night, James had left not long after expressing his desire for Q —  _ Ellery _ — to show him his garden. He’d barely heard Ellery’s soft “Cat” in reply, but Alec had, and in that one word interpreted Q’s willingness to do so in the morning. 

So here he was, wandering among corn stalks and between bean and cabbage patches following a cantankerous, heavily pregnant cat until he found —

Oh! 

Q was knelt down on the far side of a series of rose bushes, his tousled curls barely visible over their tops. 

“Good Morning, Ellery.”

As James had followed Cat through the garden maze, he had purposefully not kept his footsteps quiet as was his norm and had spoken clearly to the cat so as not to sneak up on Ellery and frighten him again. 

It seemed he had been successful as Ellery peered up over the bushes when James approached, not the least bit caught off guard. The bandage on his forehead stood out in contrast to his dark hair, making him seem vulnerable in a way that sat uncomfortably in James’ chest. Ellery blinked oddly behind his specs, and it appeared to James that the younger man was attempting to refocus on his surroundings. He watched curiously as the cat waddled up to Ellery meowing in protest about some wrong that apparently had been committed by one of them. 

Ellery rubbed her head and her sagging belly before standing to peer still further at James. Wiping his dirt-covered good hand on his thigh as he stood, Bond realised with much surprise that Q was completely starkers behind the roses. 

“Well then...” James chuckled not quite sure what to make of the naked Quartermaster in front of him. “Somehow I can’t see the Queen’s Master Gardeners going to quite such lengths to get in touch with the soil, but -- ” 

“Ellery! I swear to God!” a deep voice shouted. James turned to see Alec, dressed but damp, fresh from the shower, stomping towards them. 

“You little shite! These,” Alec waved a pair of blue jeans above his head, “were laid out on the bed for a reason. You were supposed to put them on!”

“Cat... Alec...” Ellery groaned with a roll of his eyes. 

“No! Not hearing it, El. We’ve had this talk. Repeatedly!”

He tossed the jeans at Q who scooped them up one-handed, mid-air, but seemed puzzled by what to do with them from there. Processing a moment, he slid into them, struggling one-handed with the zip until Alec realised the problem and pushed past Bond to scoot round the rose bushes to assist. 

Once Ellery was reasonably clad, Alec inspected his bandaged hand and popsicle stick-splinted fingers. “Hurt as much today?”

Ellery looked from beneath fringe at Bond for a moment before he shrugged in response to Alec’s question. Alec wound his hand through El’s curls at the back of his head and tipped his face up to see him. He could see the tell-tale pinching around his eyes and mouth that indicated he was in more pain than the shrug would indicate. From the way El still shied away from James, he was clearly reluctant to share more in Bond’s presence.

“Have you take a painkiller when we get back to the house. Take the edge off. We’ve an appointment to see Doc Webb in a couple of hours. Grace did a great job under the circumstances but Webb will make sure you’re set to rights.”

Ellery looked over his shoulder again at Bond and curled even more into Alec’s side. “Cat?” it was barely a whisper. 

“Yes, but not with us for the exam. He’ll wait in the lobby. We’ll all have lunch afterwards. You need to get used to him again, El, and James has some things he needs to share with the both of us. That’s why he’s here. That’s why he’s coming with us to town.”

Ellery gave Bond a long, final assessment, nodded at Alec, took up his gardening kit, and disappeared back down the path toward the barn with Cat at his heels. 

So much for the tour.

“I didn’t think I scared him again, Alec,” James said earnestly once Ellery was out of sight. 

Alec sighed and rubbed his face. “You didn’t. It’s complicated when El’s caught between this world and the one he hides in when he’s stressed and afraid. Yesterday was …”

“A bit shite.”

Alec’s laugh was pained. “Just a tad, but you couldn’t have known. It’s just going to take some time for him to adjust. He doesn’t handle change easily. Might take him a day or two before he’s really  _ with  _ us again.” The old friends stood looking at one another, neither quite knowing what to say. Then Alec shook himself and gestured at the property. “Come on. Promised you’d see the garden today, so let me show it to you.”

Bond wandered the garden with Alec getting the guided tour of more vegetable and flower varieties than he’d probably ever seen in one place at the same time before. 

“It was a chore, believe me. Just setting it all up.” Alec replied when James asked how it all came together. He reached down to pick a ripe tomato off a vine. “If you think the Double-O physical training regiment is tough, try spending a day wrestling a garden tiller through half-frozen mountain soil. Thing beat the shite out of me.”

“He planned this all out, you said?” James gestured around him. Amazed at all the different varieties of plants they had growing in this massive garden. 

“Down to the last square of dirt, and there was no deviating from his plan.” Alec shook his head with a smile. “No arguing. Was definitely in Quartermaster mode.”

“Alec. I don’t understand. You say he still has his computer coding skills and no one can deny the complexity of what he’s designed here, but then he’s also basically non verbal and can’t communicate in writing. I’m … I’ll be honest. I don’t understand.”

“I know James. I know. Makes no sense to me at times either but... we manage.” Alec sighed, running a hand through his hair as the thought of a way to help James see what things were really like with Ellery. “All I know is there’s no going back to who and what he was before. The Q you knew before is dead.”

Alec’s next words sent a chill through James.

“And Galen Osler killed him.”


	105. Out for Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You do realise there’s no discount for repeat customers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!!!! 
> 
> Long time, no see, dear friends. Boffin and I hope that your holiday season (if you celebrate) was a good one even with all the social distancing that likely took place. For me and hubs, it was a Christmas Zoom session with my parents and my sister and her husband. Not exactly what we had hoped for, but it was certainly the smart thing to do.
> 
> Though Boffin and I didn't get have much energy for writing these last two weeks, I think we nevertheless recuperated a tad and that was so needed. 
> 
> I am sorry about the delay in this update. Ao3 was down last night when I was trying to post. Of course it was. But it is still Tuesday, January 5 in a good portion of the world, so I guess it still counts.
> 
> We hope you find this chapter worth waiting for. Do let us know what you think. I know I speak for Boffin, too, when I say we missed your comments these last weeks.
> 
> May 2021 be kinder to us all. Cheers!

“You do realise there’s no discount for repeat customers,” Doc Webb grumbled as she finished off the three stitches in Ellery’s forehead. 

“C’mon now Doc! You know you love seeing us!” Alec grinned. He held El’s good hand. The other had been fitted with a black wrist brace for the sprain; the broken fingers properly splinted so they would heal. Ellery frowned at the contraption and had catted his displeasure on how it could make working on his laptop difficult. 

“I  _ really  _ don’t. Not like this. There’s injury prone and then there’s foolhardy.” She gestured at Ellery. “This is the latter. Watch it on the ATV next time. It’s a tool not an excuse for stupidity.” As with any believable lie, Alec stuck to as close to the truth as possible for explaining Ellery’s injuries. He  _ had _ been speeding through the forest on the ATV when he nearly overturned it, injuring his hand. Alec just didn’t explain  _ why _ El was on such a wild ride. 

As promised, once Ellery’s injuries were reassessed by Doc Webb, they grabbed James from the waiting room and went to lunch. Seeing Pryia always seemed to put Ellery in a good mood.

Station 440 was busy but not so much that they weren’t able to get the quiet table in the back corner. Alec and El had eaten at the restaurant many times since their first date. Enough that this table had become theirs. 

Pryia greeted them personally as she always did when they visited, pleased to find in James yet another Brit. James turned on the full force of his charm, but she countered with her own, and after five minutes of playful, lightly charged banter, the two ultimately called it a draw. It did earn them plates of starters on the house, however. 

Ellery tucked into portions of beet purée falafel and chicken flautas in roasted tomatillo sauce as soon as the plates arrived at the table, managing reasonably well with only one hand. Alec didn’t have to worry about El’s allergy here. Priya or a member of the kitchen staff always triple checked anything that came to their table. El was sitting next to Alec across from James with his foot and ankle hooked around Alec’s. He neither looked at James nor interacted with him in any way. Though he had yet to say anything directly to Bond, and little to Alec since leaving the cabin, it was apparent Ellery still hung on their every word. 

“So all the genius is still there. Locked inside him.” James poked at his plate as he spoke to Alec.

“All still there. Stressful, need-based incidents seem to bring out the Quartermaster, but that seems to be less and less frequent.” Alec sketched out for James the general details of what had happened at the pharmacy as well as how Q had taken charge when Alec had fallen ill. When he finished, Alec glanced at Ellery who hadn’t once acknowledged him during the story, just continued to be enamored with his chicken flautas. 

“He still manages to code, hack, you name it. I know he’s poking around inside Six. R can’t seem to keep him out of wandering through the servers, but he knows better than to get caught. She leaves things for him to solve that Q Branch can’t manage to do without him, but Q indicates she’s keeping that from Mallory. She’s on our side.” 

Alec chuckled to himself, but there was no mirth in it. Mallory had used Q up when he had him, but still had no understanding as to the talent he had burnt out and thrown into the bin like yesterday’s rubbish. The intelligence community would suffer in countless ways by not having the Quartermaster around to protect it.

“And El’s making a tidy sum with the bug hunting contracts he’s taken on. I don’t understand half the shite I see scroll past on his bloody laptop. The other day he was correcting code for someone on something. Not his work, but something that had been thrown out online for techies like him to play with. Don’t know what to tell you, James. It occupies that mad scientist genius in him, so I let him be so long as he lets me know what he’s up to and with whom.” 

Ellery suddenly elbowed Alec, sighing deeply though he never turned his way nor made eye contact. 

“Yes, I know. We’re talking about you. You could join in on the conversation. Be a tad bit social, you know.”

Ellery sat his fork down next to his plate and looked out the window at townspeople and tourists passing by on the pavement beyond. He reached out with his good hand to take Alec’s where it rested on the table between them and gripped it tightly. Alec could tell from his posture that Ellery was caught, not between this world and his own but between engaging or remaining apart. 

Between trusting James or not. 

Ellery turned back, risked a glance at Bond, and catted softly in Alec’s ear for several moments. Alec asked a few questions, the catted replies to which were peppered with a few “Alecs” and some clarifying gesticulations. 

James watched their quiet interchange with fascination, but even as he admired their ability to communicate so effectively, he couldn’t help the dark twist of envy that grew cold in his belly. The only reason Alec and Ellery even could communicate like this was because of their deep understanding of one another. A connection that transcended mere words. It was the very thing a part of James had sought his entire adult life but hadn’t found. He’d hoped to have found that in Madeleine, but -- Ugh! -- he had been so very wrong. 

“What did he say?” James asked when the two pulled away from each other. Ellery returned to his starters but kept his green gaze on Bond. 

“That he likes the bug work. Finds it calming and satisfying to dig through and solve other people’s problems. He also likes how well he’s paid to do it, and plans to build a greenhouse with the money. Oh! And he thinks you’re an utter twat which is why he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

James barked out a laugh. “Oh, I am, am I?”

“He was quite emphatic on that point,” Alec smiled around his beer. 

Ellery leaned over and catted in Alec’s ear, gesturing towards Bond with a slim hand. 

“He also says you owe him an Aston Martin,” Alec smirked. 

“Suppose I really am an arse when he throws that in the mix,” Bond chuckled, still puzzled and yet amazed at how Alec could decipher what everyone referred to as Ellery’s catting. 

But Bond’s amusement lasted only a moment, and he grew silent in thought. When the opportune time came along, he needed to apologise to the younger man for all the headaches he’d put him through over the years. 

“Just how much do you know about what coding he is doing or who he is working with, Alec?” Their main course arrived, drawing Bond from his thoughts and back to their conversation. Ellery was on  _ someone’s _ radar. Well, not this Ellery, the Q/Ellery from years back. His younger self from the photo Bond had from Leiter. 

“Don’t know. I help him with the contracts and ensure he’s working safely, but don’t understand a lot of it myself. You wouldn’t either James, so don’t give me shite about it.” Ellery elbowed Alec again, jostling him as he was taking a bite of his meal. 

“Behave, you little shite. Yes, still going to talk about you since you won’t talk with us.” Alec elbowed him back. Bond half expected a tussle to begin at the table, but Ellery just huffed an indignant “cat” at Alec. 

It was as enjoyable a meal as James could remember having. The food was extraordinary, the company restorative. Though Ellery engaged rarely and only with Alec, by the time they piled back into the Explorer to return to the cabin, he’d at least started looking directly at James regularly. 

Unwilling to move her pregnant bulk from her spot atop the back of the sofa, Cat summoned her human to her with a lazy meow the moment he stepped foot through the front door. Ellery settled into conversation with her whilst James followed Alec to the kitchen. 

“The intel Felix came to me with indicated boffins with Q’s skill level were turning up dead around the world,” James said once they were sitting at the table. He pulled the photos from his pocket and laid them out on the table in front of Alec like playing cards. 

“No one has Q’s skill level,” Alec said, absently, picking up the first of the lot to inspect it more closely. 

James nodded, conceding his point. “Five in total. Each of them independent contractors working in the grey areas.”

Alec pointed at Ellery’s photo. The image was low-res, black and white, but it was undeniably Q. A very  _ young  _ Q. “And Leiter had no idea he was Six’s Quartermaster.”

James was surprised by how unsettled he was hearing that said in the past tense, but it had taken him only an afternoon in Ellery’s presence to understand that for all intents and purposes what Alec had told him last night was quite true, the Quartermaster was dead. 

“None. Felix thought him a grey hat like the others.”

“He was back then. When he was younger.” It was one of the things El had confided to Alec during one of their comm conversations, the circumstances of his recruitment to Six. “M gave him a choice,” he said to James. “Go to prison for some of his less-than-legal infiltrations or go legit with us.” They all knew what decision young Ellery had made as well as the revolutionary changes it created for MI-6 and the intelligence community as a whole. Alec drew a line beneath the row of photos with his finger. “They’re all dead?”

“All. Felix was able to dig up that they’d each taken contract jobs they’d ‘auditioned’ for through a secure server. Disappeared not long afterward and a few weeks after that turned up dead … double-tap to the back of the head.”

Wood screeched against wood as Alec jumped up from his chair. “Ellery! Get your arse over here and bring your laptop with you!” He looked pointedly at James. “I don’t understand all the details of his most recent job, but El’s been editing someone’s code. Indicated he ‘auditioned’ for the contract.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	106. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh!

Boffin and I would like to sincerely apologize, but due to an unexpected production delay, we will not be able to update the story today (Tuesday). We will have the next update ready for posting by Friday, January 15 or Saturday, January 16 at the latest.

I don't think we've ever missed our posting target before, so we hope you will bear with us. Especially since we are just coming off our winter holiday posting hiatus.

We adore you all and will be back on track ASAP!

Thank you!


	107. Common Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is that you, Ellery?” Alec pointed at the pictures on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with us! We had good intentions of updating by Saturday, but when it rains, it pours. The week never calmed down. It only got crazier.
> 
> But this is an honest to goodness actual update!
> 
> Please know that our plan is still to continue to update once a week on Tuesday, but if we miss that target, it's because things are pulling us in other directions, and we're finding it hard to find time to write. For example, though like everywhere else, COVID has only grown worse in my state, I will be starting back to hybrid teaching next Monday. Add to that a surprise plumbing issue that will leave me without my kitchen for at least the next 3-4 weeks. So ... writing time ... yeah. UGH. Not excuses, rather illustrative points. 🙂
> 
> Boffin and I are also committed to giving you the best chapter we can each week, and if we don't feel an update meets that standard, we'll take the extra time to ensure it does. We hope. 🙏🏼
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with us. You know how we adore and appreciate every last one of you.
> 
> We hope you enjoy this chapter. Do let us know what you think. Comments are love, and pretty soon your comments will launch this story into the "Top Four" in the fandom using the comment filter. OMG!!! 😳😳 Like surpassing 40k hits last week wasn't cool enough! 🎉💕
> 
> It’s all because of you, dear readers. 😍

Ellery appeared at the kitchen door and looked at Alec from beneath his fringe that was so long it was hanging in his eyes. He knew that ‘Alec’ voice. He was in trouble for something. 

“Laptop, El!” Alec pointed a finger at him and then at the table top where he expected the laptop to be presented. "What have you been doing with your coding and hacking that you haven't shared with me? I thought we had an agreement!"

“Cat!” Ellery’s huff was closer to a growl, and he stomped back to the sofa to grab his laptop where it sat on the coffee table. 

“Sit down with us, Ellery.” Bond pulled a chair out for him at the kitchen table when El returned. Ellery cautiously circled the table in the opposite direction to avoid Bond, and when he sat, he kept the laptop clutched to his chest. 

“Is that you, Ellery?” Alec pointed at the pictures on the table. Ellery refused to look and instead stared off at a spot of floor near the kitchen island. “Please, Ellery. Take a look at the photos.”

Ellery sighed and rolled his eyes but finally directed his attention to the photos spread across the table. One hand slowly crept across the table to the pictures, fingering the edge of each one until he reached the final image. Carefully picking it up by a corner as if it would bite, Ellery studied it a moment before setting it down and slowly pushing it across the table towards Alec with his forefinger. 

“Cat... Alec. Cat.”

Even James caught the affirmative. “What about the others, Ellery. Do you know any of them?” The scowl Ellery gave Bond was one he knew all too well. _I’m finding you terribly tedious, right now_ , it said. _Can’t you just bugger off?_ It was one hundred percent pure Quartermaster.

He gave his answer to Alec instead. “Yes, all,” Alec relayed. “Why do you want to know?” And James explained to Ellery what he had shared with Alec.

Before James was halfway through his tale, Ellery sat this laptop on the table, turned it on, and quickly brought up the code he had been working on. Alec gripped his shoulder. “Don’t access their server, El.”

Ellery closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. 

“L-local.” 

Ragged, pained, and jagged, the word sounded to James as if El had dragged it from the bottom of a rock quarry. It was still very much Ellery who spoke, however; there was no sign of the Quartermaster in his eyes when he opened them again. Alec dropped a kiss to the top of his curls and James again felt that … something twist inside him at the gentle affection between his two friends. Alec had explained how hard it was for Ellery to access new words but that there were times when necessity urged him to find them. Clearly, he felt this was one of those times. 

“You kept a local copy to work on? Smart man,” James said, appreciatively.

There was no mistaking the meaning behind the two-fingered salute Ellery flipped James’ way, nor the stuttered, craggy, but resolute, “Twat!” that accompanied it. Some words were clearly easier for El to access than others, at least where James was concerned.

“If we’re going to find out who’s behind this, we’re going to need to go to the source. He’s going to have to break into their servers,” James said to Alec.

“Absolutely not!”

“Cat, Alec!”

“We don’t have a choice. It’s the only way to keep him safe.”

“Fucking find another choice!” Alec growled. He pressed his hand to the back of Ellery’s neck. Possessive. Protective. There was no way he was going to let Ellery risk himself in this. Not knowing what had happened to all the others. He shoved the laptop out of Ellery’s reach. “I’ll destroy the bloody thing before I let him muck about in those servers again.”

“CAT!” _The fuck you will!_ Ellery jumped up from his chair. His wild catting and gesticulations were joined by Bond’s arguments and pacing, and for the first time in nearly two years, Quartermaster and Agent were united together against a common foe. This time, Alec Trevelyan.

Alec dragged his hand down his face in frustration as Ellery and James catted and spoke over each other as they made their arguments before starting to argue with each other. 

Bloody, buggering fuck! 

An hour later, Bond stood on the cabin front porch, cuppa in one hand, phone in the other. He dialed an all too familiar number only to be met with a shouted, “Where the hell have you been for the last three days?!”

“And a warm hello to you too, dear Scarlett.” Bond couldn’t help but chuckle. Even though he considered her a friend, Scarlett was -- like them all -- an impatient Double-O at heart. 

“I’ve rung you up 14 times. Why haven’t you answered? I know you received my messages, you arse. What have you found?” 

“If you’ll slow down and not bite my head off, I might be able to get a word in to answer your questions.” Bond was listening to Scarlett huff and sputter on the other end of the line when the screen door of the cabin flew open with a bang, and Ellery came stomping out with Alec on his heels. “You know this is too dangerous! I don’t want you doing it!” 

Clearly the couple still had not discovered common ground on this issue. Their continued bickering (cattering?) is what had finally sent James outside. This kind of domestic bliss he could do without. 

“Cat! Cat! Cat! Alec!” Ellery spun to face Alec, hands on hips. Every last cat was quite clear in what he was trying to express. 

“You found them!” Scarlett gasped in Bond’s ear. “You utter twat! You knew where they were the last time we spoke! Damn you Bond! Pass me over to Trevelyan. I’m done wasting my time with you.”

James looked at his friends having their row at the opposite end of the porch. “Now might not be the best time, Scarlett” he hedged, though he was quite fascinated by how much attitude, anger, and irritation Ellery could still communicate. It was just as painful to listen to as when Q still had access to a more expansive vocabulary. Whether it was 25,000 active words or only two, some things would never change. 

“Now, Bond!” Scarlett shouted, bringing him back to the more immediate situation.

James crossed the porch and held his phone out to Alec. “Trust me. This might be the more preferable argument right now,” he promised. “It’s Papava.”

Alec looked at the phone as if it was a viper about to strike, but the look on Ellery’s face immediately brightened from its indignant scowl at the mention of Scarlett’s name.

“F-f-four!” El fought for the single syllable word, but it was clear to both Alec and James that there was little that would have kept it inside. “F-FOUR!”

Alec took the offered mobile and pressed it to his ear. “Scarlett.” 

“You absolute shite! Do you have any sodding idea how worried I’ve been?!”

“Been a tad busy, Scarlett. No time for social calls,” Alec huffed into the phone. He didn’t have time for this. Not when Ellery was still ready to hare off on this insane plan he and Bond seemed to have. 

“Where are you, Trevelyan?! Is Q alright?” Scarlett demanded, and Alec thanked God she was thousands miles away or he might punch her to shut up her annoying demands. And that would only lead to a knock down, drag out, where there was no guarantee which one of them would end up victorious. He was bigger and stronger, but Scarlett fought dirty. 

“Ffffour! Cat! Alec! Ffffour,” Ellery catted away, trying to grab the mobile from Alec’s hand. 

“Behave you little shite! Let me have this conversation. Catting isn’t going to exactly cut it in this situation, is it?” Alec chastised him, only just dodging the boney foot Ellery tried to kick him with. He returned his attention to the woman on the phone. “We’re safe, Scarlett. At least we were until Bond flounced into our lives again.”

“You need to tell me where you are. I can help. I owe Q a debt.”

“Leave us alone, Scarlett. That’s the only thing you owe him: his retirement. Leave him alone and don’t bring Six back into his life.” Alec pulled the phone from his ear and made to end the call, but Ellery grabbed his wrist tightly before he could. 

“Cat! Alec!” His eyes were clear, insistent, and solemn. El pressed his free hand to his heart before moving it to Alec’s chest. He looked from Alec to the garden and back again, doing his best to encompass the world they had built together “Fffour … Alec. Fffour.”

“You’re not serious?!” Alec demanded. 

“About what?” James looked between the two men. He was still lost 80 percent of the time Ellery tried to communicate, yet Alec understood him so completely. 

“Cat, Alec.” Ellery closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around Alec’s waist, and whispered in his ear, “Fffour.”

Alec sighed and returned the embrace. “Fine, you little shite.” He brought the phone back to his ear and looked at James over Ellery’s head as he spoke to Papava. “Seems the Quartermaster wants his agents where he can keep an eye on them, Scarlett. Here’s James. He’ll tell you how to find us.”

He handed the phone to Bond, gave Ellery a brief but forceful kiss on the top of his curls, and stalked back across the porch. 

The screen door slammed behind him, echoing through the garden. 

  
  
  



	108. Another Man's Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst he poured a cup for himself, James noted the tension that had settled in Alec’s frame, something that had been increasing over the last few days. It was not the stress of an agent on a mission nor of one trying to guard an asset.
> 
> No. It was the strain of a man trying to protect the one he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still Tuesday where I live!! So we technically still made the Tuesday update!
> 
> Boffin and I are still each riding the Crazycoaster (without safety harnesses, it seems), but we wanted to get something out to you this week. The coming days are likely to be particularly challenging, so comments will be very welcome and sustaining. As you know, I'm not above begging for them, but you all are so lovely in giving us a much needed fix.
> 
> We hope you enjoy this update. As someone noted last week, the Double-O family seems to be getting together for a reunion. Do let us know what you think.

Apparently deciding to leave Alec to sulk and fume about Scarlett’s pending arrival in Devil’s Gulch, James watched Ellery wander off into the garden. As ever, Cat and her pregnant bulk waddled after him as he carried on an animated, catted conversation with her about something of great importance. 

James couldn’t help but grin when Ellery stopped at the closest plot, dropped to his knees, and began digging about in the dirt whilst Cat meowed instructions at him. Meanwhile, the one person James considered his closest friend was off pouting in the cabin because he had lost an argument with his now dirt-covered boffin.

Jogging up the steps to the cabin, James entered the kitchen just in time to hear Alec snarling to himself about how his safe house was “turning into a bloody Double-O convention”

“Alec, let’s stop and think about this. I eventually found you. So could others. M or Osler. This arsehole out there luring in highly-skilled boffins and assassinating them. Admittedly, you made me work for it, but for someone who’s properly motivated ...” James began. 

“I can take care of Ellery myself, James. I don’t need your bloody help.” For a moment James thought Alec’s coffee cup was going to come flying at him from across the room, but Alec reeled in his temper, turning his back on him so he could watch Ellery out the kitchen window.

Whilst he poured a cup for himself, James noted the tension that had settled in Alec’s frame, something that had been increasing over the last few days. It was not the stress of an agent on a mission nor of one trying to guard an asset.

No. It was the strain of a man trying to protect the one he loved.

James knew what he was looking at because he had once experienced the same, unrelenting tension. Not with Vesper, though he certainly could have done had things been different. And sure as hell not with Madeleine. Perhaps that should have been one of the signs that things with her were never going to turn out the way he had hoped.

Tracy.

Christ, he’d been young. His first long-term mission as a Senior Intelligence Office, and James managed to fall arse over tit for the daughter of the man he’d been sent to take down. From the moment he pulled her out of the sea, James’ primary focus had been on keeping Tracy safe. 

He failed.

And her death nearly destroyed him. 

Alec had brought him back.

“Do you  _ need _ help? No. Of course not. You have all the skills necessary to protect him,” James said, joining Alec at the window. “But you’re not the only one who cares about what happens to him. Grace and Bob have your trust, that much is clear. I used to, too.”

“Trust is tenuous at best, James. You know that.” Alec leaned heavily on the counter, continuing to watch Ellery outside in the garden. “What was I to think, James? You walked away. No goodbye. Not even a text or postcard.”

Alec turned to face him, an unreadable look on his face. “And with that Spectre bitch of all people, James. You tell me how  _ that  _ appeared to those of us left picking up the pieces after you waltzed off into the sunset.” Alec huffed and turned back to the window so he could watch Ellery. “I think my caution not to trust you was justified, all things considered.”

“I wasn’t thinking back then, Alec. I thought I could...” James moved to stand next to his friend. Ellery had apparently abandoned his weeding and now held a basket in his hand as he poked about in his tomato plants for ripened fruit. . 

“Thought you could? Could  _ what _ ? Have a normal life? The one you’ve been chasing as long as I’ve known you? Christ, James, when in the fuck are you going to realise men like us don’t get a normal life!? Even this one,” he gestured out the window at Ellery and the property at large, their home, their life, “is  _ not  _ normal. We live under constant threat from what we did before with Six. From our enemies. From those we thought were our friends. And then there’s what happened to El … you left a  _ lot  _ of damage behind in your wake this time, trying to chase a ‘normal’ life.”

James thought back to what Tanner had told him about the pressure Q had been under in the weeks and months after James walked away at Westminster Bridge. Scarlett hadn’t bothered to put too fine a point on it either, but neither of them could offer him the answer he had to have. “Alec, is this my fault? What happened to Ellery? Did I cause this?”

Alec dropped his head toward his chest. His sigh was long and seemed to carry with it endless exhaustion. When he looked over at James, Bond could see anger, frustration, and blame in his friend’s eyes.

“Yes. You caused it. Or rather, you  _ started  _ it. Part of me can’t help but hate you for that. For this.” He gestured out beyond the glass. “But others had a greater hand in what happened to El. I’m not entirely blameless, either, I suppose.” He dumped the rest of his coffee out in the sink, gave the mug a quick rinse, placed it in the drying rack, and headed for the staircase. “Gonna put linens on the beds upstairs. No sense you staying in that hotel in town, and I’m sure Scarlett’ll be here the day after next. Ellery will want her close by, too. Might as well play at being one big, happy Double-O family.”

“Alec …”

Alec stopped with his hand on the bannister and turned around. “The crazy thing is, James, you had everything you wanted for yourself within reach, and you walked away from it. Walked away from  _ him _ . Smart, funny, loyal, didn’t put up with your shite, challenged you … I know he did. He shared  _ your  _ comms with me, too. El may not be able to say much anymore, but there are  _ no  _ secrets between us. There mightn’t have been anything more than friendship and a casual flirtation between the two of you back then, but had you stayed …” Alec shrugged. 

“Who’s to say what might have happened,” he added after pausing long enough to let that idea sink in, “But your fuck up has become the best thing that’s ever happened to me, so I supposed I can’t hate you too much.” 

Alec smirked at James and disappeared up the stairs.

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  



	109. Unfinished Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course, none of this changed the fact that James needed some way to break through the icy exterior that only seemed to encase Grace whenever he came into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the lack of an update last week. Life ... yeah. That. 🤪😱 Boffin and I hope to continue with once a week updates, but if we miss one here and there, or need to go once every other week, we apologise in advance.
> 
> For a few of you who have asked, my husband and I are still living without a kitchen. It's been three and a half weeks now. Once the rest of the subfloor is installed we'll at least be able to use our microwave again, and I am sooooo looking forward to that. It's the little things. We'll still be getting water from the bathroom sink and prepping what few meals we can on top of our washer and dryer for awhile yet, though.
> 
> In case you missed CindyLouWho's comment on their discovery the other day, Without Being Told now ranks 4th all-time in the fandom when filtering by comments. Boffin and I continue to be amazed and so very appreciative that you have embraced this story as you have. You, dear readers, make our day with every comment you leave. 🌺💗
> 
> So without further ado ... an update!
> 
> We hope you enjoy it. Do let us know what you think.

With Alec prepping rooms upstairs and Q off doing God knew what in his garden, James returned to town to check out of his hotel. It didn’t take long. He’d packed light for this mission, just what would fit in a rucksack and a carryon, but as he loaded his gear into the boot of his hired car, James knew he couldn’t pop back to the cabin just yet.

His inability to break through Grace Mikelson’s antipathy toward him was likely to prove problematic in the days and weeks to come as Alec, Ellery, and he worked to figure out who was so interested in the former hacker turned MI6 Quartermaster. Grace was an ally, yes, but one who needed to be able to work with  _ every  _ member of the team. 

_ Bullshit, brother! That’s not the real reason you want her to like you. _

James shook his head and twirled the key fob around his index finger. His conscience hadn’t bothered him much in decades, but it had started popping up with increasing frequency these last weeks, speaking to him in Felix Leiter’s voice of all people. 

He sighed and climbed into the car. No. That wasn’t the reason, but James wasn’t ready to admit to himself what the real one was. So fuck off, Felix! 

Of course, none of this changed the fact that he needed  _ some  _ way to break through the icy exterior that only seemed to encase Grace whenever he came into the room. He’d asked Alec to invite Grace out to the cabin for dinner that night to give James the opportunity to do just that, but he couldn’t go empty handed. He drove slowly down the main street of town, lined with shops carrying all manner of goods, but there was one in particular he hoped might have what he needed. He’d found the eclectic gift shop the same day he’d first surveilled Grace in her store. It was only a few doors down from Raven’s Roast.

A gentle bell above the door announced his arrival. He nodded and flashed a smile for the woman behind the till who greeted him as she rang up purchases for the customer at the counter. He took the opportunity to browse the inventory: clothing, jewellry, shoes, knick knacks of all kinds, some framed art on the walls, small sculptures shown to their best advantage on well-lit displays. All of it by local artisans if the attached cards were to be trusted. All of it of the highest quality. 

Perfect!

Intrigued, he slowly wandered the shop, impressed by the artistic talent on display that was on par with what he had seen in similar shops around the world. Stopping at the array of framed artwork, he was drawn by the scenes depicting the four seasons in Devil’s Gulch. Beautiful, peaceful, drawing you into the natural settings as if standing inside the work itself. 

No wonder Alec had been taken with the area enough to purchase a safe house here. Upon his arrival in Devil’s Gulch, James had been puzzled by the location. It just wasn’t in keeping with what he knew, had known, about his friend, but now he was beginning to see how Alec must have been taken by it all. Such a contrast from London in so many ways. 

But, for a long-term resident of Devil’s Gulch like Grace, these scenes were well known and all too familiar. Not quite what James was looking to purchase, so he moved on to find something else. 

Locally crafted jewellry? Beautiful, but far too personal and might further her distrust of him.

“Can I help you with a selection? If there is a piece you’d like a closer look at, I’d be happy to get it out of the case for you.”

“They are all extremely lovely,” James said with a gesture at the case and a smile he could see immediately captivated the young woman if the slight flush that stained her cheeks was anything to go by. “But they’re not quite what I’m looking for, so to answer your question, yes, you can most  _ certainly  _ help me with a selection.”

The blush deepened and her breath hitched slightly at the vague suggestion in his reply, but she recovered quickly. “What is the occasion? Birthday? Anniversary?”

James caught a faint tightening around her eyes when she said ‘anniversary’ as well as how quickly it eased when he said, “No. A thank you gift.” 

Felix scoffed.  _ Keep telling yourself that, brother. It’s a white flag, and you know it. _

“I have several items in the shop that might work. Do you know their preferences?”

“Not in the slightest,” James admitted, ignoring Felix. “Though you might. It’s for Grace Mikelson. She’s been very kind and supportive of some friends of mine, and I’d like to--”

“Oh! You must mean Alec and Ellery! Your accent,” she said by way of explanation as to how she had identified them as the friends he had mentioned. “I see them often when I go over for my afternoon caffeine fix.”

It didn’t take long after that and soon Bond left the shop with a delicately wrapped package containing what blushing Simone insisted was the perfect offering for Grace Mikelson. 

_ You know, Brother, Grace is not your only obstacle to making this mission run even close to smoothly. Unfinished business, a death sentence to any agent. _ Felix reminded him. 

“You’re becoming annoying,” Bond muttered under his breath, trying to decide if his dead friend was the angelic voice on one shoulder or the devil on the other. The mental picture of a tiny Felix perched on his shoulder made him chuckle. 

_ Just saying things need to be resolved. Could blow up in your face when you least expect it... _

The images of the photos Felix had shared with him floated through James’ thoughts again, one in particular. He could have walked away all those weeks ago. Told Felix no, he wasn’t interested in helping him. Let that life stay in his past. Dead and buried. But if he had, the reality of who would end up dead and buried was, for once in his life, something  _ he  _ couldn’t live with. 

Once he got back to the cabin, he stashed Grace’s gift in a kitchen cupboard for easy access at dinner and quickly stowed his belongings in one of the guest rooms upstairs. Water rumbling through the pipes and the off-key singing that drifted down the corridor told him Alec was in the shower, but he had no idea where Q was. 

James finally found him coming up from the field of brilliant poppies, watering can in hand, catting with his pregnant, furry companion who waddled slowly up the path at his side. Ellery wore only a pair of well-worn cargo shorts, some once-white trainers, and his gardening hat. He was dusty and sweaty from his labours, and James thought he’d never seen Q look so beautiful. Something surged in his chest, spreading warmly through his belly. 

“Good afternoon, Ellery,” he said, stepping onto the path. 

Ellery stopped short, head snapping up from his conversation with Cat to look at James. 

Ellery... or maybe it was Q, Bond was never truly sure, stared unblinking at him. It was that all-knowing, seeing into your very soul gaze the boffin had perfected as The Quartermaster. The look that had always unnerved James and could put any Double-O on notice.  _ I see all of you and don’t think you can hide anything from me. _ Yes, this was definitely Q rather than Ellery passing judgement on him. 

But before James could say anything, Q turned on his heel, heading off deeper into the raised beds and tangled maze of The Garden. Cat huffed at James in disdain, and with a flick of her tail, waddled her fat body down the path after her human. 

And Bond, he hesitated.  _ Hesitated _ !

_ Unfinished business, Brother, _ that all too familiar voice commented. 

James knew he should leave things well enough alone. He truly did. Emotional entanglements and he did  _ not  _ play well together. He had a lifetime of empirical and anecdotal evidence to prove it.

_ You... _

“Oh, do shut up, Felix...” Bond muttered. But Felix was right. Unfinished business. James had to know. 

Bond followed Ellery down the dirt path further into the garden to a plot of green beans growing on several tripod trellises constructed from wood and wire. El’s fingers skimmed along the vines, snapping fresh beans from their stems as nimbly as they once danced across a laptop keyboard. He worked from the peak of the pyramid to its base, stretching on his toes to reach the top, gradually dropping to a crouch at the bottom where he dropped the vegetables into a basket at his feet before standing again to repeat the process.

When Bond offered to help, Ellery did not reply or acknowledge him in any way. When he had picked the first trellis clean, he took up his basket and moved to the next in line. Only the slight twitch in Q’s bared, sun-kissed shoulders signaled that Bond’s offer had been heard but ignored. Cat sat between the two tripods, munching on a bean El had passed her, but her ice blue eyes were fixed on Bond when he reached out and took Ellery’s hand in his, pulling it from his harvest.

“Q … Ellery, please …” 

Ellery started and stared first at their joined hands, then up at Bond. His eyes were wary, his jaw tense, but he did not pull away, and Bond took the opportunity to turn Q’s hand over in his, running his fingers over the rough calluses he found there from his labours in the garden.

“Ellery, I need to ask you a question,” James said.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	110. A Misplayed Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No. You don’t think. That’s the whole point. I know you, James. Your time faffing about with that doctor in Jamaica taught you nothing. You’re exactly the same as you were when you fled London. The same as you’ve always been. Selfish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh what a crazy, busy, world full of unexpected things we all continue to live in. Yes, we've kind of had to go to an every other Tuesday update for now, which is rather cruel of us considering the last chapter was left as a bit of a cliffie. Here's hoping this chapter helps regulate the increased blood pressure Boffin and I have been causing some of you of late. 🤭
> 
> Kitchen Update: Hubs and I have been living without a kitchen for five weeks now, but we have suddenly seen a great deal of progress in the last few days. With luck, we might be able to be back into that space by the end of this week. ::touches wood:: I am so over eating take away. 
> 
> Anyhoo, enough of those domestic woes. Here's a new chapter that features a working kitchen, many hands making light work, and a Double-O who completely misreads the room ... or the garden, as the case may be.
> 
> Do let us know what you think. Your comments continue (as always) to make Boffin's and my day brighter. Sometimes, they're the best part of it. 🌺🌞💗
> 
> Enjoy!

Ellery and Cat’s return from the garden was heralded by the bang of the cabin’s screen door being slammed shut into its frame. Today, it sounded more like a shot fired from Alec’s Sig rather than the crisp snap of pine on pine. 

“I was just about to yell for you. Grace should be pulling up any…” Alec turned from the counter where he was just finishing prep for dinner, but one look at Ellery had him abandoning his chef’s knife on the cutting board amid the mushrooms and onions he’d been chopping. “El… alright?” he asked as he crossed to Ellery who had a white knuckle grip on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

Covered with dirt from head to toe, Ellery was wild-eyed and obviously agitated. Fingers pressed lightly underneath his chin, Alec forced El to look at him. 

Ellery just stared at him. Not blinking. He was somewhere that Alec hadn’t seen him go before. Not lost in his own world but certainly not here with Alec in this place and time. Alec wasn’t quite sure how to deal with this or even if he should. Then Ellery began to bounce lightly on the balls of his feet, his eyes darting back and forth, focusing on different things in the room. At Alec, the cutting board with the abandoned veg, Cat winding her way between their legs. Even over his shoulder at the cabin door. It seemed as though Ellery was processing something. Trying to decide how to react. He still wasn’t quite here, but ...

The Double-O in him assessed the situation. Press for answers now about what had agitated El or wait for the storm to pass before approaching again? “Think you can take a shower and clean up for dinner?” Alec asked, deciding on trying to keep things as normal as possible. “Ellery…”

Ellery nodded tersely before gently scooping up Cat, tucking her under his chin. Wild eyes met Alec’s once more as if he wanted and needed to say something. El even opened his mouth to cat, but snapped it shut and headed upstairs instead.

Alec watched him go. Concern climbing the stairs alongside this man who had come to mean everything to him. Alec knew Ellery would share when he was ready. 

He hoped.

The water had been humming through the pipes for some minutes when the door opened again. This time Alec looked up from seasoning the steaks to see James ushering Grace through the sitting room to the large kitchen table that had somehow become the heart of this cabin in the woods. He was surprised to see Grace take James’ chin in her hand and twist his face this way and that, interested in something on his mouth. “Nasty one, but it doesn’t look like it needs any stitches. I’m sure you know how to clean it up,” she said, turning her back on him once her inspection was done.

“I do, ma’am,” Bond said and disappeared into the guest bath before Alec could ask what the matter was. He turned his unasked question to Grace who read it on his face as she passed to the fridge.

“Split lip. Bad one, too.” Grace said with a shrug “And no, I didn’t give it to him this time,” she said, pulling salad fixings from their crisper drawers. She grabbed a large bowl from the cupboard beneath the kitchen island and worked next to Alec, tearing up bits of lettuce and other greens from Ellery’s garden for their dinner.

The water in the pipes gave a final rattle, drawing Alec’s attention above stairs, and suddenly Ellery’s mood made much more sense. He hadn’t just been agitated. He’d been royally pissed off!

At Bond!

Bond’s split lip! What the fuck had…

Cat waddled down the stairs and into the kitchen, loudly protesting her situation -- her pregnant belly was practically dragging on the ground -- and a showered, half dressed Ellery followed, pulling a t-shirt over his head that read “If the Earth was flat cats would have knocked everything off already”. His hair was still damp and he pulled his spectacles out of the front pocket of his jeans and slipped them on. Barefooted, as usual. Ellery’s timing could not have been more perfect as Bond stepped into the room, back from attempting to repair his lip in the guest bathroom. 

Alec took a step towards Bond only to be met with one of Ellery’s hands shoving into the center of his chest. 

“Cat! Alec…. Cat!” A definite demand to let it be. 

Taking a deep breath, Alec turned his way, eyes searching Ellery’s face for any signs of distress or losing him to drifting away. 

“Alright El? Are you sure?” His hand drifted cup the side of Ellery’s face. 

“Cat…” Ellery sighed, leaning into Alec’s hand. There was a wariness that still remained there, lingering in his eyes along with a hint of forced control. Ellery was still quite angry. 

“You and I are going to talk later.” Alec snapped in Bond’s direction. 

“Children! No fighting at the dinner table!” Grace stepped into the middle of the growing tension in the kitchen. “I doubt any of you want me to clue Miriam into such misbehavior among grown men.”

Bond still didn’t know who this Miriam was who was so oft invoked like a goddess of vengeance, but Grace’s threat had an immediate effect on both Alec and Ellery who immediately demurred, much to James’ surprise. 

Grace then issued orders to get them all back on track. Alec took the steaks out to grill, and she set Q to sautéing a pan of fresh green beans, mushrooms, onions, and garlic. Whilst she finished assembling the salad she had started and buttered up some garlic bread that was popped in the oven, Bond was put to setting the table, including wine glasses for the two bottles of red Grace had brought with her. 

Wine was definitely the order of the night. Bond doubted two bottles would be enough.

Alec didn’t return until the steaks were done, and Ellery completely ignored him whilst James moved back and forth through the kitchen, but the underlying tension was somewhat diffused by the casual conversation Grace kept up about her shop and general Devil’s Gulch gossip. Ellery catted in reply every so often, and again, Bond was amazed at how Grace seemed to understand the bulk of what he was saying. He wasn’t excluded in the conversation, however. Surprisingly, Grace provided context so Bond wasn’t completely lost, and his thoughts drifted to the gift he had stashed for her. Suddenly, a bit more hopeful she might accept it despite his utter fuck up with Ellery in the garden. 

It wasn’t long before the four were sat together at the table, enjoying their dinner. It was stilted and awkward even with the continued conversation and the wine, but Bond had only himself to blame for the occasional glares from Alec and the way Q stared through him like he wasn’t there. 

When dinner was naught but scraps and crumbs of food on otherwise empty plates, Grace sent James to the porch with another glass of wine — the ‘to think on your sins’ heavily implied in her tone — whilst the rest of them washed up, but it wasn’t long before the front screen door squeaked on its hinges then snapped back into its frame. 

Alec sat in the chair beside Bond with his own glass of wine. The two men stared out into the darkness toward the moonlit lake which glinted through the pines, each lost in their thoughts for a long time. 

Finally, Alec spoke. 

“I don’t know what happened before dinner but obviously something did,” Alec’s voice held that cold, calculating Double-O tone that Bond was all too familiar with. James couldn’t think of a time when it had been directed at him as it was now. 

“You upset him. I warned you before, James.” Alec paused for a moment, carefully choosing his words, staring out across the cabin grounds towards Ellery’s garden that now began to cast shadows from the soft lighting in the trees. “Upset him enough that he lashed out.”

Bond turned to look at his oldest friend, not sure if he should interrupt him. 

“I’m not going to push it tonight because Ellery made it clear I should leave it alone. Leave it to him. To you. But don’t fuck with Ellery, James. Do _not_ hurt him.” Alec slowly sipped his glass of wine. “Don’t let this come between us, James. It won’t end well for you.”

The words and the intentions behind them were clear — and maybe it was the hush of the night and the remote setting around them that allowed James to see it, hear it — but …

“It’s not just Q,” Alec turned and glared at James’ use of the title, “Sorry. Habit. It’s not just _Ellery_ who’s different. You are, too. You’ve changed, Alec.”

Alec’s sigh reminded Bond of Kincade’s whenever he’d found a young Jamie curled up in the barn with the latest litter of puppies rather than bundled up in his warm bed — patient but weary.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to understand since you arrived,” Alec’s words were as firm as his gaze. “No. We’re not the same. This isn’t Six, James. We’ve intentionally left that life behind. That life and all it entails. We’re different because those rules, the ones we’ve been living by for years, don’t apply here.”

“I don’t think—“

“No. You _don’t_ think. That’s the whole point. I _know_ you, James. Your time faffing about with that doctor in Jamaica taught you nothing. You’re exactly the same as you were when you fled London. The same as you’ve _always_ been. Selfish.” He broke off from his hushed, harsh admonition to sip his wine before continuing. “You felt there was unfinished business between the two of you. That’s why El split your lip.”

James looked away from Alec’s cold, knowing gaze. And the silence that fell between them this time was _not_ comfortable. At least not for him. Neverending. Judgmental. And Alec had judged him accurately. Finally, James spoke. 

“I misstepped… miscalculated. Thought I still had cards in my hand left to play. Obviously, I was wrong.”

When James had followed Ellery deeper into the garden earlier that afternoon, when he stood there with Ellery’s hand in his, the words had just flooded out of him. How he realised what a mistake he had made with Madeleine. What he had left behind with Q. How he had valued the connection they had. He knew Alec was in his life but…

Ellery had jerked his hand away, abruptly as if Bond’s touch burnt. He shoved a finger in Bond’s chest, raining down catted chastisements at him, gesturing wildly in the direction of the cabin as his catted rebukes grew peppered with an increasing number of ‘Alecs’.

Bond had watched as Ellery struggled, searching for more words, growing more agitated by the moment. 

“Q! Please let me try to explain.” Bond had reached for the younger man again. He had caught Q’s arm by the elbow and tried to pull him back to him to contain the wild gesturing. 

In a sudden move worthy of a Double-O, Q twisted out of Bond’s grasp, spun around and punched him in the gut. He followed it with a left jab to Bond’s mouth so blindingly fast and unexpected that Bond didn’t realise what had hit him until he was looking up from the ground at an enraged former Quartermaster who had suddenly found the words he sought. At least some of them, for he had started punctuating his catting with “Twat!” “Arsehole” “Fucker!” “Wanker!” and “Slag!”

Q’s next spin had been on his heel. He had paused long enough to snag his hat from the ground and jam it on his head before he scooped up a howling, spitting Cat and stormed off back to the cabin, shouted cats and curses echoing back to Bond who sat in the dirt. 

“What’s it going to take before you understand, James?” Alec demanded, pulling Bond back from his thoughts. “Ellery’s life isn’t a game of poker for those cards you thought you had to play. When will you get that it’s not all about you?” Alec sounded tired.

“I never meant...” Bond started but hesitated, a sudden realisation that he was beginning to make an excuse for his behavior. No. He had meant it. Fuck. Alec was right. Oh, he thought he’d understood what Alec had been trying to tell him for days now. Thought he was growing. Understanding. Listening. Doing better. But no. He had still made it all about him. His needs. His regrets. His wants.

“Ellery was always a means to and end for you, James. You never truly saw him for who he was, what he was capable of, and what he was offering you.” Alec turned to face him again. James met his gaze and saw the myriad of emotions that played across his oldest friend’s face. 

“You underestimated him.” Alec gestured at him with his wine glass. “And because of that you became part of the fucking fiasco that caused this situation. He may not be verbal, James, and he’s definitely a tad broken, but whatever you said to him, be thankful he didn’t have a weapon.” 

Alec chuckle was humorous but there was something dark underlying in it, also. 

“No doubt in my mind. As pissed off as he was with you, he’d have shot your arse. Surprised he didn’t gut you with his garden spade. Those fuckers can be nasty.” Alec drained the last of his wine and settled back comfortably in his chair. “No, it may not be in your normal mission parameters, but if you hope to salvage any kind of relationship with Ellery, it’s time to learn how to grovel, James.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> “If you have consumed what we have laboured and invested in to create, and if you have found any enjoyment in it, please tell us so that we can recharge enough to do this again.” ~ paraphrased from kdreeva via Tumblr


End file.
